


Second Chances: Season 7

by chadmaako



Series: Second Chances [2]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M, No Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-05-09 09:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 66,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14713661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chadmaako/pseuds/chadmaako
Summary: Potential Slayers are being hunted one by one. Eyeless terrors stalk the night. An evil as old as time looms, watching, waiting, manipulating. Emotions run high, fear grips every soul.But the heroes of light have resources of their own. And they know how to use them.The soldiers of Sunnydale have been through a lot. But now the rules have changed. How do you combat an enemy that knows you better than you know yourself?Faith and company are back.And this time...it's WAR.Rated M for Graphic Violence, Sexual Content, and Strong Language.





	1. Chapter 1

 

She pumped her arms furiously as she ran. Her legs burned from the exertion. She couldn’t tell how long she’d been running. She turned and could see her pursuers weren’t giving up. She had no idea who they were. She’d returned to the small room she shared with her Watcher to find him dead, his throat cut from ear to ear. The look of shock still upon his pale lifeless face.

Then a trio of men appeared from the shadows of the room. It was as if the very darkness borne them. Thick black cloaks covered them from head to toe. They spoke not at all. Each drew an ornate blade and lunged at her.

She moved as she was trained to, dodging their attacks and fighting them off. Their blades came in quick and deadly. She took a hard slash across the bicep and another in the back, but kept from getting wounded brutally. She kicked one of them in the arm, causing him to drop his knife. She snatched his dagger from the ground and rammed it into his skull, killing him. His cloak fell free, revealing his face. He was bald with pale skin with runes of some sort burned into the place his eyes would have been. She could immediately taste bile as it rose in her throat. Her heart thudded in her chest.

The remaining pair came at her hard, doing their best to gut her where she stood. She managed to slip out a window and had been running ever since.

The dark winding streets of Istanbul formed a black maze in the night. She ran on and on, praying,  _screaming_  for someone to help her.

She saw a man standing at his front door, watching her. She ran toward him, pleading for him to help her. He stepped back and closed his door, barring it in her path. She pounded on it, but he didn’t open it again. She heard the approaching footsteps of the pair of assassins and ran on, cursing him for his cowardice.

She looked down this alley and that, her breathing coming hard and labored. She was sweating profusely in the warm night air. She caught glimpses of people in their homes staring at her…but nary a one lifted a hand to aid her. Anger caused her to run faster, doing anything, everything she could to put distance between her and her pursuers.

She rounded the corner and slid to a stop when she realized she was out of room. The alley ended with a large terracotta wall. She sighed and turned. Her attackers were close now. She looked about frantically, her eyes searching for an escape. She saw a large drain pipe along the side of the building and ran for it.

The pair of killers’ footsteps were closer now, a few yards if that. She gripped the pipe and made to climb it.

Without warning, a pair of loud, short stuttering rattles sounded out from the shadows at the head of the alley.

Surprised, she turned, watching fearfully. The pair of assassins staggered from the darkness and fell to the ground, dead. Blood pooled on the dirt under them.

Slowly another shape moved out of the night. He was a tall, slender man with black body armor, an assault vest, carrying a Heckler and Koch MP5SD3. He had short light hair and a serious expression on his face. He looked around the alley and moved closer to her. “Adin mi Ezra Bayruk?” She stared up at him, her chest still heaving. He offered him her hand.

“S-sem kinsin?” She asked, fearful.

“İngilizce biliyor musunuz?” He asked her in return.

“Yes.” She said, nodding. “Very little. My Watcher teach me.”

“My name is Philip. I’m with the Watcher’s Council.” He took her hand gently in his. “I’m here to help you.”

She gave him a warm smile. He suddenly pulled her arm sharply, throwing her behind him with his right hand. She staggered and fell to her knees. She turned just in time to see Philip lift the submachine gun with his left hand and fire off a short burst. The shots rang out in the quiet of the night. Another cloaked assassin had appeared on the roof of the building and shuddered as the bullets punched holes in him. He pitched forward and fell to the ground, dead. Philip turned back to Ezra. “Come with me if you want to live.” He said, again offering his hand.

The girl nodded and took it, letting him help her up. As they continued to walk on, Philip pulled his cell phone from his vest and dialed a number. “Sir? I’ve got her.” He looked at her. “Minor laceration to the right bicep and left side of her back. Neither is life-threatening.” He paused a moment. “There were three, sir. It would appear Miss Chase’s vision was accurate.” He nodded, again looking to the girl. “I will sir.” He put the phone away and regarded her. “Have you ever been to London?” He asked her. She looked at him and slowly shook her head. “I think you’ll rather like it.”

 

Faith walked around Dawn, her arms crossed. “It’s about power.” She said, looking at the girl. “Who’s got it. Who knows how to use it. So…” She tossed a stake to Dawn. “Who’s got the power, D?” She asked the girl.

Dawn spun it in her hand. “I  _do_ have the stake.” She said.

“The stake ain’t the power, kiddo.” Faith said.

“But he’s a new fish. He doesn’t know his strength. H-he might not know all those fancy martial arts skills they inevitably seem to pick up.” Dawn shook her head. “Never figure out how they do that.”

“When you find out, let me know.” Faith said. “The stake isn’t the power. It’s the tool.” She stopped beside Dawn as the soil began to break. “Who’s got the power, little D?” Faith asked her again.

Dawn sighed. “He does.”

Faith nodded. “Never forget it, squirt. Don’t matter how well prepped you are or how well armed you are. You’re a little girl.”

Dawn frowned at her. “Woman, thank you.”

Faith conceded the point. “Fair enough. A little woman…”

“I’m taller than you.” Dawn returned.

Faith sneered and tapped the back of her head. “Concentrate. He’s a vamp, D. Demon. Super strong. Reflexes most humans couldn’t hope to…”

“Excuse me.” The vampire said, his face twisted into the undead visage of his breed. “I think I’m stuck.”

Faith and Dawn both regarded him. “You’re stuck?” Faith asked. “Seriously?”

“My foot’s caught on a root or something, and…I don’t even know how I got down there. If you girls could just give me a hand…” He said, embarrassed.

Dawn lifted an eyebrow, staring at him. “Hm. So, he’s got the power?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Faith said, moving over to the grave.

“I really appreciate it. It’s just it’s so dark, and I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”

Faith gripped his suit collar and pulled him effortlessly from the grave, setting him on the ground. He dusted himself off and turned to regard her. “Thanks. That was a help. Unfortunately, it was the last,” Faith immediately grasped his throat, lifting him from the ground. “…thing you’ll ever do.” His voice was suddenly hoarse and raspy.

Faith shook her head. “Listen up, fuck-head. I’m the slayer. You don’t want to get into it with me. You want blood? You can have hers.” She nodded toward Dawn.

The vampire turned to the tall brunette and smiled. “She looks tasty.” He moved toward her.

“Power.” Faith said. “He’s got it. He’s gonna use it. You don’t have it, so…” She watched as Dawn squared off with him. The vampire ran in haphazardly. Dawn waited until the last minute and took his arm, spinning to take him to the ground. He hit the grass hard and rolled a few feet. Faith nodded. “Perfect. Nice takedown.”

Dawn smiled and rose to her feet. It had been nearly a year since Faith had begun training her. Since then she’d improved in leaps and bounds. She’d already claimed monsters. This would just be another notch on her belt. She shot in and rammed the stake into his chest, grinning. “And another one bites the…”

“That hurt!” The vampire snapped, angrily.

“Shit,” Dawn said, backing away. The vamp got to his feet. She ran in, looking to stake him again. He utilized his superior reflexes and caught her hand at the wrist. He then gripped her other arm.

“Now, he’s got control.” Faith said. “What do you do?”

Dawn furrowed her brow and shot out with a snap kick, taking him between the legs. The vampire grunted and released her, gripping his suddenly bruised genitals. Dawn then straight kicked him, forcing him back with her foot. The maneuver gave her time to pull another stake from her vest. She lunged in and made sure the stake hit home. The vampire was gone in a hail of dust. She turned to Faith, smiling.

“Not bad. Good use of technique, you remembered your training in the clutch.” She said, returning the girl’s smile. “Now for the bad news. You telegraphed too much.” She took the stake and held it close to her chest. You don’t wanna drawback like this…” She made the motion of pulling her arm back over her shoulder and thrusting forward. “That tells the vamps what you’re planning and gives them time to do something about it.” She shook her head. “Quick thrusts, using your shoulders and hips. Like throwing a punch.” She demonstrated a fast hard strike. “This is what you want. In, out, repeat.” She tossed the stake to Dawn.

“Faster, shorter movements,” Dawn said, putting the stake away.

“Right.” Faith said, nodding. “But overall, you did good. You didn’t get overly rattled. Missed the heart, but that happens to the best of us.”

“Even you?” Dawn asked.

“Even me. I’ll miss the heart every once in a while.” She made a fist. “I mean, look at me. I’m a whopping five-five and a buck fifty.” She put her fist against her chest. “With me moving at my slayer speed, try hitting something this small.” She shook her head. “No easy task.”

“That’s true,” Dawn said as they closed up on Faith’s Roadrunner. “I’m hungry.”

“Just hungry, huh?” Faith said, smiling.

“I’m not you,” Dawn said. “I don’t wanna have sex with my girlfriend twenty-four seven.”

“If I was sharing a bed with Kit, I would.” Faith said. “Girl’s a muffin.”

“Yeah, she’s also at home tonight,” Dawn said.

“Want me to drop you off?” Faith asked.

“Nah. Sally’s family is down from Washington. Kit has to be all well behaved and shit. Sally’s folks are really picky. They tend to like to bitch about the fact that Kit’s getting raised with two lesbians.”

“Well, they need to join the twenty-first century.” Faith said. “But you know…bitchy in-laws and vampires are no comparison to what’s coming.”

“I know,” Dawn said, sadly. “I can’t believe it’s back.”

Faith nodded. “Just a few more days until it starts…then you never really know what’s coming next.”

Dawn chuckled. “Thanks for reminding me.”

Faith clapped her on the back before climbing into the car. “What are friends for?” She waited for Dawn to slide in and fasten her seat belt. She then laid rubber as she sped away from the curb, heading home.

 

Giles groaned and reached over, lifting the cordless phone and hitting the button. “Yes, hello?”

“Rupert.” A deep British voice offered. “It’s Quentin. Did I wake you?”

“Yes, but that’s quite alright,” Giles said, sitting up. Olivia offered a light groan and rolled over. “To what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

“It would seem your young Miss Chase was spot on. Twenty-four hours ago in Istanbul.”

Giles suddenly turned dour. “Were you able to get to her in time?”

“Yes. Ezra is fine. I sent Philip to retrieve her. She’s en route to our headquarters here as we speak.”

“What about Edward? Any word?” Giles asked.

“He…he didn’t make it. Whoever they are seemed to catch him by surprise and cut his throat. Ezra did manage to off one of them before she fled.”

“Good show,” Giles said. “What are you going to do with her?”

“We’ll keep her here for observation and debriefing. Make sure she’s not traumatized too much.” Quentin sounded tired.

“Do you think we’re likely to see more of this?” Giles asked. “Or do you think this a random incident?”

“Gods, Rupert. I wish I knew.” The elder Watcher said. “I’m going to contact Watchers in the field and have them stay on high alert. I’m also going to speak with Ms. Harkness. See about stepping up our efforts to find any other potentials.”

“Wise idea all around,” Giles said, nodding. “So um…” He bit his lip. “How is young Andrew doing?”

“Truthfully?” Quentin smiled. “The boy is doing rather well. He is young and immature and is a complete and utter ponce but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. He’s taking to the academics rather well. He’s got a very sharp, very gifted mind. Seems to be a bit thick when it comes to physical combat but he’s learning. He’s come a long way, but still has leagues to go.”

“He seems cut out for the life, to be honest,” Giles said. “And he needs something to give him purpose.”

“He’ll make the grade, I have no doubt. A few more months and he might be ready for a potential of his own.” Quentin said.

“I don’t know if I should be proud or terrified by that statement.” Giles offered, honestly.

“A bit of column A, a bit of column B,” Quentin said. “Keep us posted if Miss Chase has any more of her visions. She seems a very valuable resource.”

“I will,” Giles said. “Thank you for calling me.” He hung the phone up and immediately dialed another number.

“Angel Investigations. We help the helpless.” Cordelia said, cheerfully.

“Good morning, Cordelia. It’s Giles.”

“Oh, hey.” She covered the phone with her hand. “The diapers are in the other drawer.”

“This one?” Angel asked, reaching. At Cordy’s nod, he pulled it open and took a fresh one out.

“Sorry. Connor needs changing.” Cordy offered. “So what did you need?”

“I just wanted to call and update you. The vision you had was spot on. One of the Watcher’s Council black ops agents managed to get to the potential in time. She’s being taken back to London.”

“Oh, good,” Cordy said. “For god sakes, Angel.” She said, getting up out of bed and moving over to him. “Hold on, Giles.” She hit the button on the phone and set it down.

“Look, these new diapers you got are really complicated,” Angel said, frustrated. He staggered sideways as Cordy shoved him over. “I’m not used to…”

“I swear you just don’t like changing him.” Cordy snapped out. “Go ahead, Giles. You’re on speaker.”

“I-I-I can call back another time.” He stammered.

“No, it’s fine. I’m a woman. I can multi-task. So is she okay? Did she get hurt?” She pulled the old diaper off and rolled it up, tossing it into the trash. She used the baby wipes and cleaned the infant. She then took the new diaper and looked to Angel. “ _Watch…me!_ ” She ordered him. She pointed to his eyes and to the diaper. She unfolded it slowly. “So any idea on whether this was just a onetime thing, or do we think it’s gonna be a whole thing?” She slid the diaper on the boy and secured it snugly. “There. Now that wasn’t so hard.” She put him back in his little jammies and lifted him, handing him to Angel. “Now go feed him.” The vampire took the boy over to the sink and began getting a bottle ready.

“I don’t really know for sure. But Quentin is going to operate under the assumption that it’s not an isolated incident.” He smiled. “You saved that girl’s life, Cordelia.”

“Comes with the job.” She said, likewise smiling.

“How um…how’s your robotic doppelganger doing?” Giles asked, unable to help himself. He knew full well that Cordelia absolutely hated the idea of an android double of herself running about, but she couldn’t deny the robot’s effectiveness.

“Ugh,” Cordy said, disgruntled. “She’s such a complete bitch. She acts just like me when I was in high school.” She shook her head. “How in the bluest of blue hells did all of you put up with me?”

“You had other charms,” Giles said.

“From a man of your years, that was really disturbing.” Cordy offered.

“Quite.” He said. “But you weren’t as horrible as you think you were.”

“At least not after I started dating Xander.”

“How are you and Angel doing?” Giles asked. “I know that the pair of you…”

“We’re fine,” Cordy said, looking at her love. He stood with the baby boy in his arms, smiling down at him. “Get right down to it, he’s a wonderful man, Giles.”

“He is.” The Watcher said. “Have to two of you…you know?”

“Yes, we have. And no, there is no danger of  _that_  happening again. I made certain of it. We had a Shaman look him over. His soul is firmly anchored. Perfect happiness or no, his soul isn’t going anywhere.”

Angel looked up at her and smiled warmly. “Love you.” He mouthed happily.

She mouthed it back. “Look, I’ve gotta go. Thanks for calling me. I appreciate it.”

“Have a good day, Cordelia.” He said, ending the call. He looked at the clock and sighed heavily. “Time to get up, I suppose.” He turned to Olivia. He moved over and kissed her cheek. “Time to rise and shine, darling.”

“Mmm. Mornings are the devil’s work.” She said, pulling her blanket up over her head. “The power of Christ compels you.” She said, groggily.

Giles chuckled and pulled the blanket back down. “It’s past seven in the morning, love.”

“Bloody hell.” She said, yawning. “Dastardly mornings.”

 

Faith leaned against the counter sipping her coffee. Tara and Willow both raced around, double checking everything for their first day of school. She chuckled as she watched the chaos. The back door suddenly swung open. Xander stepped in, closing it behind him. He was decked out in a business suit and tie. He carried a roll of papers with him.

Dawn sat at the island eating a plate of eggs, sausage, and hashbrowns. “Mornin’ Xander.”

“It is that.” He said. “How excited are you, huh?” He asked her, snatching a piece of sausage out of the pan and devouring it.

Dawn waved a butter knife at him. “I have cutlery, Mister.”

“Yeah. And she laid down a pretty respectable smack last night, so don’t think she ain’t got the skills to use it.”

“That’s kind of a prerequisite around here, isn’t it?” He asked. He looked at Faith. “You doin’ okay?”

“Yeah. I mean little D is about to go to the same high school that tried to kill everyone for three years. I can’t change districts, and she don’t wanna go to private school, and we can’t begin to prepare for what could possibly come out of there. So, peachy with a side of keen, that would be us.”

Tara and Willow both came into the kitchen. “Hey, Xander,” Willow said. “Lookin’ sharp.”

He hugged her and Tara. “Ladies.” He lifted the papers. “Got some interesting visuals.”

“You got the rest?” Tara asked him.

He went into the dining room, carrying the tube with him. “Take a look.” He said, unrolling everything. “We’ve got two crews working on this diabolical yet lucrative new campus. One here finishing the Science building.”

Faith raised her hand. “That’s where I’ll be.” She said.

Xander nodded. “And one here, reinforcing the Gym. There are no pentagrams, no secret passageways. Everything’s up to code and safe as houses.”

Willow looked it over. “Nothing creepy? Strange? From beyond?”

“Well…it  _is_  a high school, Willow,” Dawn said.

“Hear, hear,” Faith said. Xander just nodded his agreement.

“M-m-maybe you’re just being paranoid.” Tara offered. She knew better, but she wanted to keep everyone’s minds off of the worst case. It was a doomed endeavor, she realized, but she had to try.

“Well…” Xander hesitantly began. “There is one interesting detail. I managed to scare up the plan from the old high school. You remember the very center of Sunnydale’s own hell mouth?”

“Under the library.” Faith said. “I still remember that shit. That thing sucked ass. I think I’m  _still_  sore from that fight.”

Xander just chuckled. He remembered what  _he_ was doing during that whole fiasco. They had no idea then and still didn’t. He didn’t see a reason to tell them. He honestly felt that was a turning point for him. “Right.” He said, getting back on topic. “So I lined up the plans, new and old. And right exactly where the library was, we now have…” He put the papers against the window so they would be partially transparent.

“Principal’s office,” Tara observed with the rest of them.

“So the principal’s evil?” Dawn asked.

“Or in a boatload of danger,” Willow added.

Xander pulled the plans down. “Well, the last two principals were eaten. Who would even apply for that job?”

“Snyder got eaten?” Faith asked. “How?”

“The Mayor ate him,” Willow said.

“Yeah. Just about the only time I wanted to thank the giant snake demon.” Xander said.

Faith chuckled. “Couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.” She checked her watch. “Time to roll.” She said. She, along with Willow and Tara turned to Dawn.

“Books?” Willow asked.

“Lunch?” Tara followed up.

“Stakes?” Faith concluded.

“Checked thrice,” Dawn said, finishing her orange juice.

“Alright, ramblers. Let’s get ramblin’.” Faith said, grabbing her keys and her backpack. The party left the house, heading to slay the construction and educational dragons.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

Dawn pulled up to the front of the school and into the student parking lot. Kit, from her spot in the passenger seat, eyed the school with a smile. “Well, it’s definitely better looking than the last high school.”

“It’s certainly shinier.” Dawn agreed. “Time to go slay the beast.”

The girls stepped out and gathered their supplies. They’d done their best to get their classes together, but first and second period, they had differing schedules. They were a little saddened but didn’t let it get them down. As they walked toward the building, Dawn sighed heavily. “I heard Faith say something this morning. She said that this school tried to kill them for three years.”

“Well, all sorts of weird things happened here. You know, before that gas main explosion.” Kit returned.

“You were never told what really happened, were you?” Dawn asked her. She shook her head. “My sister…”

“Your sister is Buffy Summers, isn’t she?” A charming voice offered from behind the girls.

They turned to regard the man. He was tall, with a bald black head, a well-trimmed mustache, and goatee with a welcoming smile. “Hi,” Dawn said, smiling in return.

“I’m Mr. Wood. The new principal.” He said, offering his hand.

Dawn took it. “Dawn Summers. This is Kit Holburn.”

“Pleasure to meet you.” He said, shaking Kit’s hand.

“You’re kind of young for a principal,” Dawn said. “Sorry, that didn’t come out right. I mean, it’s cool. Most principals are all old and…not as young as you.”

He chuckled lightly. “Well, don’t let the age fool you, Dawn. I’m told I’m a pretty good principal.”

“You have to be. You chose to come here. I mean that last two principals were…” She stopped as Mr. Wood raised an eyebrow. “Not up to the job.” She finished.

“So I’ve heard. I’ve um, I’ve actually heard a lot about you. Your sister graduated from the last high school, am I right?”

“Yeah. She was a veteran, alright.” Dawn said, smiling.

“Well, I better get back to work. Gotta start deadening young minds. It’s really nice to meet you. You have fun.” He said, heading away into the school.

“Did that seem weird to you?” Dawn asked as he departed.

Kit shrugged. “Not really. I mean, your sister was a legend here. It only seems fair he’d want to meet you.”

“Well, my sister and her friends did blow the last school up,” Dawn admitted quietly. “After the Mayor turned into a giant snake demon.”

“Yeah…now I’m  _really_  not surprised he wanted to meet you.” Kit said, taking Dawn’s arm and leading her along to class.

Faith turned her hard hat around and looked up at the small duct that ran along the ceiling. She sighed heavily. “Is now a bad time to say I’m claustrophobic?” She asked.

Tony moved over to stand beside her. “That depends, are you?”

“Not a fan of shit shaped like coffins. Call me crazy.”

“It’s not. It’s shaped like an HVAC duct.”

“Funny.” She said. “It’s because I’m the smallest one here, isn’t it?” She turned to regard him.

“Well, duh.” He said, patting her back. “Any one of these other jokers and we’d have to slather ‘em in butter. Then the whole school would smell like popcorn.”

“Eww,” She said, moving over to grab the ladder. “I’m not gonna lie, I don’t know shit about air conditioning.”

“That’s alright. We’re just doing a last minute check of the lines.”

“Let me go and take a piss first. I don’t wanna do this shit with a full bladder.” Faith said, heading for the bathroom. She walked through the halls and came to the girl’s restroom. She took her hard hat and gloves off and set them on the counter before going in to do her business.

She sat on the toilet and rested her chin in her hand. Movement caught her eye from the other side of the stall door. “Do me a favor and leave the hat and gloves alone, would you?” She asked. There was no response. She shrugged and continued on. She finished up, flushed and stepped out, washing her hands. She stopped when she noticed a small bundle of feathers, twigs, and a crystal bound together with a rough brown string. “What the…?”

Sudden motion in the mirror caught her attention. She looked up to see a girl clad in a dirty blue long sleeve shirt, a pair of grungy brown pants…with a desiccated face. “You can’t protect her.” The girl said. “You couldn’t protect me.”

Faith whirled on her…to see no one in the bathroom. “What the fuck?”

A form to her right lunged at her. “Get out, get out, get out!” The man shouted. He, like the girl, looked dead of form.

Faith attacked on reflex, her fist sailing toward the man’s face. His form dissipated as suddenly as it appeared. “What the hell is going on here?” She looked around, but couldn’t see anything untoward. “This is fuckin’ nuts.” She stuffed the little bundle into her pocket, grabbed her hat and her gloves and moved out into the hallway. She again found Tony. “I gotta go talk to Xander. Give me a few minutes, alright?”

“What’s going on?” He asked her. “You feeling alright?”

“It’s um…business.” She said to him, raising an eyebrow.

He stared at her a moment and sighed. “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

“Wish I was. Might be nothing. Might be a one-way ticket to hell in a really shoddy handbasket,” She said to him. “I gotta get more intel before I know for sure.”

He shook his head and thumbed outside. “Go. Do your thing.” He said.

“What about…?” She pointed to the ceiling.

“Tell Xander to send me James. He’s not much bigger than you.” Tony said.

“Better hope there’s no spiders in there.” Faith said. “Or they’re gonna here him screaming from LA.”

“I’ll blindfold his ass,” Tony said. “Go. The rest of us have work to do.”

Faith nodded and trotted outside and over to the Gym. Xander stood out front looking over plans as the workers milled about. “Hey, Jimmy! Tony wants you in the Science building.” She said to the man as he carried a pair of two by fours along. She then stepped up to Xander. “We’ve got a problem.”

He looked up at her. “What kind of problem?”

“The haunted kind.” Faith said, shaking her head.

Xander stepped away from his table and walked a little ways with her. “So school’s back in session, huh?”

“Seems that way.” Faith said. “I don’t know why, but I think I’m the target.”

“What makes you say that?” He asked her.

“Some bullshit that I can’t protect her. I can only think they mean Dawn. They told me to get out. Tried putting a fist to one of their faces, but it was like punching air.”

“Quasi-manifestation,” Xander said, nodding. “We’ve dealt with it before.”

“I’m gonna have a look around. See what else I can scare up.” Faith then sighed. “I wish I would have said something else.”

“So today’s an off day.” He said, patting her shoulder.

Dawn sat her desk and tried her best to pay attention. She groaned and looked at her watch…and realized it had only been five minutes since the last time she’d checked it. “Ugh.” She said, softly.

A boy sitting beside her leaned in closer to her. He was average as it got with short blonde hair and a dark blue and white flannel patterned button-down shirt. “Can I borrow a pencil?” He asked her.

She turned to regard him and nodded. She unzipped the pencil pouch in her binder, took out a yellow pencil, and handed it to him. As soon as she looked up at him, she gasped in fear. His flesh had become moldering and rotted. His eyes were sunk back into his skull and his clothing was dirty and ripped. For all intents and purposes, he looked dead. Long,  _long_  dead.

“Thanks a lot.” He said, before drawing back the pencil to stab her.

Dawn thought quickly and reached out, catching his hand at the wrist, pushing the strike out wide. She responded with a hard backhand that sent the dead boy and the desk tumbling.

“Are you alright?” The teacher asked her, as he approached slowly.

She looked at him and back to the chair the boy was in. It sat empty beside her. “Yeah.” She said, furrowing her brow. “I’m, I’m fine. There was…there was a bee coming toward my face. I’m highly allergic.”

“I think it’s gone.” He said, looking around. All of the kids in the class were staring at her like she’d grown another head.

“I um…I need to use the bathroom.” She said, getting to her feet.

He nodded. “Of course.” He motioned to the door.

Dawn quickly trotted out of the room.

“Guess it runs in the family.” One of the students said, looking at his friend.

Dawn moved into the bathroom and leaned against the door, closing her eyes and drawing several deep breaths. “Okay, Dawn, think.” She said softly to herself. “What would Buffy do?” She cleared her mind and harkened back the training she’d been receiving and the research she’d been doing. Suddenly, she heard what sounded like crying. She knelt on the floor and checked the stalls, finding no feet. She swallowed and began moving from stall to stall, pushing the doors open.

She made it to the third…to see Kit sitting on the toilet, clutching her bookbag, crying. The girl leapt up and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend. “God, I’m glad to see you.”

Dawn held her tightly. “I got you.” She said, embracing the girl. “What’s wrong?”

Kit drew back, sniffing. “There’s someone in here.”

Dawn looked around, then shook her head. “No, it’s only me.”

“No.” Kit said, fear in her voice. “It’s not.”

 

Faith moved through the hallways, looking about. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but she was fairly certain that she’d know it when she found it…or when it found her. She turned a corner and bumped immediately into a tall, well built black man with a bald head and a nice smile. “Hey.” She said, instantly grinning.

“Hey yourself.” He said, crossing his arms and regarding her. “I’m…I’m not sure we’ve met. I’m Robin Wood.” He offered his hand. “Principal.”

She took his hand and shook it firmly. “I’m Faith Lehane. Construction worker.”

“You’re a friend of Buffy Summers, right?” He asked her.

She nodded. “Yeah. I came to town a few years ago. I um, I had to move away for a while, but I’ve been back in town for about a year now.” She said to him.

He stared at her. “So what prompted you to wander about? I thought, in general, it was customary for a person who’s graduated to, um, you know, go somewhere else.” He said, chuckling.

“Well, you know. Being a new campus and all, I just had to check it out. I mean a number was really done on this place a while back. Just making sure it’s all copacetic. D’s a friend of mine and I worry. What can I say?”

“You know…” He said, looking a bit sheepish. “I, um, have to be honest. I actually know a little bit more about you than I let on.”

“Isn’t that interesting?” Faith said, taking a step back.

He smiled and nodded. “Oh, it really is. The school board recommended I spend a little time reading Buffy’s record. It’s, um, quite a page-turner. Kind of a checkered past…”

“You have no idea.” Faith said. “Let me guess. A few good headlines about  _my_  past in there?”

“In Buffy’s record, you were mentioned, but nothing beyond that. It wasn’t until I looked up  _your_  information that things got really fascinating.”

“Oh, mine reads like a special on Lifetime.” Faith said. “What part of it caught your interest the most?” She wasn’t worried about what he did or didn’t know. Her life was wonderful and it was all because of her past. The mistakes she made were simply a color in the tapestry. She wasn’t ashamed of it. She regretted it, but that was what second chances were all about. Doing what you could to make up for the mistakes of the past.

“You don’t have to worry about me getting hung up on what you did then. It’s what you do now that matters. Since getting out of prison a year ago, you’ve been doing very well for yourself. Given the rather…tumultuous past you and Buffy seemed to have, she’s gone a long way to forgiving you. You even live in her house.”

“I know. Ain’t that a kick in the head?” Faith said. “I never really thought that would happen. But you know, B is a busy girl. I help out where I can with little D. It’s worked out pretty well so far.”

“Well, you’re doing the right thing. It’s hard to make up for one’s past. A lot of hard lessons and learning from mistakes.” Robin said, smiling.

“Trust me, learned that the hard way.” Faith said. Suddenly her phone blared  _Turn Back Time_  by Cher. “Oh, shit.” Faith said. “Didn’t realize how loud that was.”

“That’s part of the reason we don’t allow…” Robin began but was interrupted as Faith put her phone up to her ear.

“Sorry. I gotta take this.” She said, turning to listen. “Kit?” She asked, surprised.

 

Dawn looked Kit in the eyes. She could tell the girl was freaked out. “Let’s get the hell out of here, OK? Maybe we can get some air.” Kit nodded. “Saw something pretty creepy, huh?”

“If I didn’t know what you’ve been through, I would say you wouldn’t believe me.” Kit offered.

“Don’t feel too bad. I almost got stabbed with a pencil by a dead nerd.” Dawn offered as they moved to the door. Kit was no longer looking at her. She was staring into the mirror. Reflected therein were three obviously dead people. The nerd that had attacked Dawn, a girl in a blue grungy blouse and an older man dressed as a janitor. Immediately the lights began to spark and burst. Glass rained down on them. Kit quickly lifted her backpack to cover their heads, pulling Dawn in close.

Suddenly the floor beneath them began to splinter and crack as hands reached up, gripping their legs, pulling them down to the darkness below. Then, at once, the floor gave way and they fell in the blackness, screaming.

Dawn knew she’d blacked out. She could feel Kit shaking her gently. “Hey. Hey, wake up. Please wake up.” Her girlfriend said, frantically.

She sat up, blinking to clear her vision. “Oh, oh, God, uh…you okay?” She asked, looking around the room.

“We have to leave.” Kit said, looking about nervously.

“You’re not wrong. C’mon. There’s got to be a staircase.” Dawn offered rising to her feet. She moved about, looking for some way out of the area. It appeared to be a basement, but that was the width and breadth of what she knew of their present location. “What did you see?” Dawn asked as she looked around, tapping walls and checking overhead. “When I found you in the stall?”

Kit stayed very close to her girlfriend. “A girl. She said she died here, and that everybody dies here, and that we would too.”

Dawn chuckled. “And here I was worried about not fitting in.” The pair moved on and stopped short when a boy came around a corner, causing them both to gasp. Dawn immediately grabbed him, turned and pushed him up against the wall, her fist cocked back, ready to let fly.

“Whoa!” He said, putting his hands up. “Who are you?” He asked.

Kit piped in. “Who are you?”

Dawn released him and stepped back. “Are you dead?” She asked, curiously staring at him.

“Stop saying that.” He said.

“We’re not dead. We saw creepy dead people, and we’re just trying to get out.” She said to him, trying to calm him down.

He drew a deep breath and nodded. “I just came down here for a smoke, you know, and I saw…it was a janitor. He was yelling at me. I thought he was just pissed, but…I saw him in the light.”

“Wait, you came downstairs?” Dawn asked him. She stepped closer. “Where?”

He shook his head. “Man, I got no clue. I ran away like a girl. I don’t know this place at all.”

“Wonderful,” Dawn said, again looking around. “OK, so we can run around in circles, or…” She began walking down the corridor that the boy emerged from.

“Do you really think you can run away?” The Janitor said, his voice gravelly and halting.

Kit backed away as he came down the hall. “It’s not real.” She said, terror in her voice.

Dawn stepped forward, clenching her fists. “Lesson one: it’s always real.”

“I tried to run too.” The Dead Nerd said from behind them.

“I tried to scream. Doesn’t matter how much you scream, nobody ever hears you.” The Dead Girl added.

Dawn moved Kit and the boy against the wall and stood, ready to fight. “Call Faith,” Dawn said. She turned to Kit. “I’m gonna be busy.”

Kit nodded and pulled her cell phone from her bag and dialed. “Faith?”

“Kit?” The slayer asked. “What’s wrong?”

“We’re in the basement. Part of the floor collapsed in the main girl’s bathroom. There’s three dead people down here. They’re like ghosts or something.”

“Crap. Alright, sit tight. I’ll find you.” Faith said, ending the call. “Gotta go.” She said to Robin, running off.

“No, you go and handle…that.” He said as she disappeared around the corner. He furrowed his brow and shook his head, moving toward his office.

Dawn turned back to the ghosts…to see them all gone. “Where’d they go?” She asked.

A hand closed around her throat. She loosed a hard side-kick that sent the Dead Janitor reeling. “Look but don’t touch, perv!” She said, squaring off.

“Help is on the way.” Kit said, terrified.

“Who the hell are you?” The boy asked Dawn.

She grinned and looked at him. “I’m the one that’s gonna save your ass.” She said, taking him and Kit by the shirt. “Come on. We need more defensible ground.”

The pair were too scared to argue. The girl obviously knew what she was doing.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

Faith ran through the halls, heading as fast as she could toward the girl’s bathroom. She skidded to a stop as she passed a Janitor’s closet. She moved over and twisted the knob until it broke and pulled the door open. She looked around, searching for some kind of weapon. She spied a thick handled mop and nodded. She snatched it and quickly broke the end off. She was left with a four-foot long wooden pole. “Nice.” She said, nodding.

She closed the door and was on her way. A moment later, she entered the bathroom and saw the massive hole in the floor. “Well, that’s a safety hazard.” She said, stepping off the edge and dropping down into the basement. She crouched and peered around, taking in her surroundings. “Dawn?” She asked, looking about. When she received no response, she began listening intently and moving, keeping the staff in front of her. “If there’s a minotaur down here, I’m gonna fuckin’ laugh.” She said, snickering.

For several minutes, she kept her senses stretched wire tight. She stopped, something donning on her. She pulled her phone out and quickly dialed Dawn’s cell. She could hear it ringing near her. Suddenly it picked up. “D? Where are you? I’m nearby.”

“Too late. But then, you’re always too late, aren’t you? Sure as hell didn’t save me.” The Dead Janitor said, appearing at the end of the hall.

Faith ended the call and slid the phone in her pocket. “Where’s Dawn?” She asked. “Don’t make me ask you again.” She spun the staff in her hand for emphasis.

He smiled. “I think she’s lost.”

“If I’m supposedly the one who let you die, why take it out on her? I’m right here. C’mon, what’re you after? Fear? Revenge? Tasty brains?” Faith asked, walking slowly forward.

The Dead Nerd stepped out from the shadows. “I think I’d like Dawn to be my girlfriend.”

“Okay, three problems with that. First, ew. Second, she’s taken and third…ew again.” Faith said. “Besides that, wrong sister. Buffy was the one that dated dead guys. And no offense to you, but they were muffins. I mean, I’m sure you had a great personality, but…”

“Busy finding the fun while I was ripped to death by a werewolf?” The Dead Girl scoffed. “Is that why you let me die?”

“I was screaming for help when they pulled me down…” The Dead Nerd began.

“Whoa, hold on.” Faith said, shaking her head. “First off, I have no idea who the hell any of you fuckers are. And to be honest, I don’t care how you died. I’m sorry for your loss, but that’s then and this is now. Last chance before I start swinging. Where the fuck is Dawn?”

“She’s not gonna hear you. This place is like a maze.” The Janitor said, grinning.

“This place is ours now. It was built on our graves.” The Girl added.

“All we want is for you to leave so we can rest again.” The Janitor said.

Faith looked at them and saw the three of them standing in front of a metal door. “Actually, I’m thinking all you want is to get between me and that door. Who’s for finding out why?”

The Dead Nerd lunged at her. She quickly stepped forward, and to the side. She used the staff and took his legs from beneath him. He flipped into the air and landed hard on the ground. The Dead Girl ran and tried to jump on her back. Faith spun, swatting her in the ribs, causing her to fly sideways into the wall. She then spun to the door, ready to run when all three of them stood waiting for her.

Faith sighed and rolled her head about her shoulders. “If at first, you don’t succeed…” She broke into a run and as they moved toward her, she leapt, flipping over them into a rolling somersault. “Cheat.” She reached for the door, trying to pull it open. The Janitor gripped her shoulders in an attempt to drag her backward.

Faith used the staff and spun it in her hand, cracking him across the ribs as he stood behind her. He backed off long enough for her to tear the door open and rush through. She turned and slammed it shut and leaned against it. “Yeah. School is definitely back in session.” She then grinned. “If it were this fun, I might never have dropped out.”

She pushed away from the door and began inspecting the room. “Dawn?” She shouted. She got no reply. She pulled her phone out and again dialed the girl’s number.

“Faith?” Dawn answered. “Where are you?”

“I’m in the basement, kiddo. Where are you?” She asked, looking around.

“I don’t know. In a room by the furnace. Near where we fell in. I brought us here to better fight them off.”

“Good lookin’ out, D. Way to use what we taught you.” Faith said, proudly. “They came after me too.”

“Any idea what they want?” Dawn asked.

“So far, to piss me off.” Faith said, moving to the door.

“Please, tell me it’s working," Dawn said, chuckling.

“Oh, I’m gonna be wreckin’ motherfucker’s shit, believe me. But…I just can’t figure them. Ghosts can’t touch you and zombies can’t disappear, so I don’t know what…”

Dawn interrupted. “Oh, I know this. I saw it in one of Giles’ books before. They’re not ghosts.”

“Well no shit, D.” Faith said. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“They called Manifest Spirits. They’re usually controlled by something. Some sort of like, focus or talisman. They’re summoned to seek vengeance for the violently dead.”

“Alright. Hold what you got. I’ll find you. These things can hurt you. You can hurt them too. Find a weapon.”

“We’re covered," Dawn said, smiling.

“I’ll come for you.” Faith ended the call and turned, kicking the door down. “Time to run the gauntlet.”

Dawn swung the pipe in her hand and paced back and forth. The boy, who she learned was named Carlos, was likewise armed. Kit, being far from the violent type, stood with her arms crossed against the wall. “Do you think they’re gonna come back?” She asked, fearful.

“Think they’re gonna come back? We never left. We’ll always be here. Just like you.” The Dead Girl snapped.

Kit shook her head. “No.” She said, her voice quivering.

Dawn stepped forward, pipe in hand. “Go find someone else to seek vengeance on. What happened to you had nothing to do with us.”

“Why do you think we picked you?” The Dead Girl asked. “The ones no one will miss. The ones that don’t…”

“Um, I hate to rain on your parade, Living Dead Girl, but we got plenty of people that are going to miss us. And trust me, you do  _not_ want any of them pissed off at you. You think I’m being a handful, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.” Dawn returned. “I strongly suggest you let us go before something really, _really_ bad happens to you.”

The Dead Girl kept talking as if Dawn had said nothing. “You spend all your time trying to get out of high school, and now you’ll never ever leave.”

Dawn turned to Kit and Carlos. “Am I speaking in a pitch only dogs can hear or something?” She looked back to the phantoms. “Look, if you wanna fight, then let’s get on with it. Right now you’re just boring the crap out of me.” She gripped the pipe tightly. “Bring it on.”

The Dead Girl ran at Dawn. The teen stepped forward and cranked the girl across the face with the pipe, knocking her to the floor. The Janitor drew back for a punch. Dawn intercepted his fist with the metal. She then slammed it into his ribs, doubling him over. She hopped and rolled across his back, before hammering his face with an upward swing, throwing him into the air and onto his back. She continued her spin, dipping to her knees, taking the Dead Nerd’s legs from beneath him. She quickly moved back, catching her breath. “Round one to me.” She said, smiling.

The three of them rose to their feet, glaring at her angrily. “Wonderful," Dawn said, sighing.

“You can thank Faith for this.” The Dead Janitor said as he stormed in. He was suddenly thrown to the side as Faith ran past, swatting him in the ribs with the staff.

She came to stand beside Dawn, her quarterstaff at the ready. “Thanks, Faith.”

“No problem, little D.” Faith immediately broke the staff in half and spun the sticks in her hands. “You ready to do this?”

“Oh, yeah," Dawn said, grinning.

“She been whuppin’ these fools all day," Carlos said with a smirk.

“Stay back, brochacho,” Faith said. “It’s about to get bloody.”

The three phantoms ran at the pair. Faith stepped forward, engaging the Janitor. Her blows fell fast and hard. She battered him a dozen times before he hit the floor, dazed.

Dawn met Dead Girl head on and caught her across the teeth with the pipe. She then put her foot to the girl’s gut and kicked with all her strength. The Dead teen was hurled back to crash into a shelf.

The Dead Nerd bore down on Faith from behind. Carlos stepped up and swung, hitting him in the small of the back with the pipe. Faith came around at the sound and bludgeoned the ghost zombie into the concrete. She looked at Carlos and gave him a wink. “Thanks.” She said, before turning to prepare for the next wave. “You read anything on how to stop these things, little D?”

Dawn again hit the Dead Girl, this time taking her knees out from under her and batting her head into the stone floor. “We gotta find the talisman that’s controlling them and destroy it.”

Faith took a hard right cross to the face and spun, pounding on the Dead Nerd’s rib cage several times, before finally busting him across the chops. He hit the ground hard. “Any idea what it might look like?”

“Something simple. Given that there’s only three of them…” Dawn said, breathing heavily.

Faith was barely winded. She suddenly remembered and dug into her pocket, pulling the bundle of feathers and twigs out. “This?”

Dawn saw it an immediately grabbed it and moved to break it. “No!” The three spirits screamed as one. As the talisman splintered apart, they blew away like mist on the wind.

After a few seconds, Carlos stepped forward. “Are they gone?”

Dawn nodded. “Yeah. Once the talisman was destroyed there was nothing binding them here.”

Faith looked at her. “Pretty sharp, D. You really have been doing your homework.”

“The real question is who put it there?” Dawn said. “Mystery for tomorrow. Now we just gotta find the stairs. Assuming there are any.”

“Follow me.” Faith said, smiling. “I saw the blueprints.” The group did indeed find a set of stairs leading up into the main hall.

“You really weren’t kidding about this place. I guess it hasn’t changed.” Dawn said, walking beside the slayer.

Faith shrugged. “I don’t know. Seems smaller.” As soon as they got to the ground floor, Faith looked at them all. “You guys are gonna be OK. School is intense, but you’ll do all right as long as you’re careful. And you might want to think about sticking together.”

Kit grinned and hugged her. “Thank you, Faith.”

“Yeah, I mean you’re the coolest big sister ever," Carlos said, smiling at her.

Faith and Dawn looked at each other and smiled, but said nothing. “Okay," Dawn said, ushering the pair away. “Come on, we still have a few more classes to live through.” She pecked Faith on the cheek and moved away with her friends.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Principal Wood said as he approached her.

“You are like wicked quiet.” Faith said, looking him up and down. “You’re gonna be a great principal. But what’s so curious?”

“Carlos Trejo and Kit Holburn. Possibly the only two students in this school whose files are as thick as Buffy’s.”

Faith smiled at him. “Gotta love a man that does his homework.”

“I was looking for one or both of them to actually implode in a fearsome way right before midterms. And now I see that you got ‘em socializing and hugging and actually if I’m not mistaken, headed to class.”

“We…got a lot in common.” Faith offered.

“Look, I know you’re probably more than happy to get out of this place. But I gotta tell you, Miss Lehane, I think you belong here.”

Faith raised an eyebrow and reached up, touching his forehead.

“Um…what are you doing?” He said.

“You said that I belonged here. Me and school?” She shook her head. “We never got along.”

“Well,” He said, pushing her hand away from his face. “Listen, I know this school’s reputation. What, you think I got this job based on seniority? We got a lot of troubled students here, and just enough money to keep this place from caving in.”

“Yeah. Woefully underfunded.” Faith said.

He nodded. “But, we do have a community outreach program. And the money we could pay you…wouldn’t even fold. But it would just be a couple of days a week.” He said, pleading.

Faith stared at him in awe. “You…you want me to be a counselor?”

“Well, we have a guidance counselor, but I was thinking the kids could use someone, you know, closer to their age who still…”

Faith sighed heavily. “Look, Robin. You’re a great principal. I see you actually give a sh…snap, crackle and pop about the students here. But I’ve got a lot on my plate. I work full-time construction and I have a rather demanding night job.” She could see him become crestfallen. “I might not be able to take the job, but I know someone that might actually be a bit better suited than me. She’s a friend of the family. And I think she’d be perfect for it.”

“Can you get her down to meet with me today?” Robin asked, happily.

“Yeah. I can have here in a few minutes. You want me to have her come to your office?” Faith asked as she pulled her cell out.

“Please. And would you do me a favor and take the call outside. I don’t want students getting the wrong idea. I don’t want cell phones in the halls if I can help it.”

Faith chuckled. “You can’t. But you’re more than welcome to try.”

He sighed and shook his head as he made his way back to his office. “No positive reinforcement. How disappointing.”

A half hour later, there was a knock on his office door. He rose to his feet and opened it. There stood a girl, perhaps five eight with long bright red hair, wild green eyes wearing a leather jacket, a pair of black jeans and a black t-shirt. “Um…can I help you?” He asked.

“I’m a friend of Faith’s. She called me and told me that you needed a part-time teen counselor.” She said, offering her hand. “I’m Justine Cooper.”

He took it and noticed immediately that she had one hell of a grip. “Faith tells me that you’d be perfect for the job.”

Justine nodded as she stepped past him into his office, looking around. “Pretty swank for a principal’s office. My old high school was in the middle of Los Angeles. Andersonville was a step up.” She looked at him. “I know what it’s like to walk these halls…doing everything you can to be a ghost. Hoping, _begging_  not to be noticed.” She stepped up to him. “Back there and back then, I would have killed for someone to know what it was like, someone who couldn’t just talk the talk, like most of your garden variety guidance counselors. No, I needed someone who’d walked the walk.” She tapped her chest. “I’ve been in the trenches, Principal Wood. I grew up going through hell so my little sister didn’t have to. I was the bad kid so she could be the good one.”

“So…you were a troubled teen?” Robin asked her.

“Before I met the friends I have now? I wasn’t just troubled, Mr. Wood. I was self-destructing. I got a second chance and it all started with a friendly ear.”

“Well, like I said to Faith, the money won’t be much-,” He began.

She interrupted him, shaking her head. “I’m not in it for the money, Principal Wood. A little scratch makes it better, but I’m doing it because it’s a way to help out. Just being here for some of these kids could be the difference between studying statistics and becoming one.”

He grinned widely and offered his hand again. “Welcome to the team, Miss Cooper.”

“Please.” She said, taking it. “Call me Justine.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

She had no idea where the hell they’d come from. She wasn’t exactly sure she wanted to know. She knew two things, and two things only. They were relentless…and they wanted her dead. That was really all she needed to know. She needed to get someplace public. Surely someone would help her if they saw a pair of men in robes brandishing giant knives. The Frankfurt Police tended not to like psychos with weapons running loose on the streets. Not for the first time, she cursed that she hadn’t had the chance to charge her cell phone.

The hard-hitting Techno of the German nightclub below would cover any scream for help she might make. Assistance wouldn’t come to her, she had to go to  _it_.

So she had one choice. Run. So run she did. But she could feel that no matter how fast or how far she ran…it wouldn’t be fast or far enough. She felt the cold ball of lead fill the pit of her stomach.

But the eyes of her pursuers weren’t the only eyes upon her.

Her bright pink hair bobbed as she pumped her arms. She pushed open a glass and metal framed door and leapt, dropping into a crouch to the floor below. She prayed that she could lose the pair of them in the winding corridors of the new construction that heralded the growing Frankfurt economy. She threw open the metal fire door and emerged onto a balcony with a wrought iron banister. Thinking quickly she hopped over the banister and scaled down the side of the building with ease.

She dropped into what looked like a small courtyard surrounded by thick corrugated steel walls. She drew back a heavy door and sighed a breath of relief. She took a step and was suddenly shoved back into the courtyard.

She staggered back against the wall as the pair of men stepped into the courtyard with her, throwing the door shut behind them. The first of the pair went at her. She stepped and spun, planting her boot into his stomach, throwing him back against the wall. The second moved in and took hold of her leather jacket and threw her toward the man she’d sent reeling.

He drew back to punch her…

When the heavy metal door crumpled like a beer can and was wrenched free of its moorings. All three of them regarded the entryway.

A man that appeared to be in his late sixties, clad in a white button-down shirt, a worn leather vest, brown trousers and a pair of heavily worn boots stood with a stern expression on his ruddy face. His hair was gray, as was his beard and mustache. What was under the clothing, however, looked broad and very, very solid. The girl was immediately reminded of Sean Connery for some reason. “Es tut mir leid (I’m sorry).” He said, his voice was deep and very distinguished. “Habe ich fangen Sie Ficker zu einem ungünstigen Zeitpunkt (Did I catch you fuckers at a bad time)?” He cracked his knuckles as he glowered.

The pair of men ignored him and turned back to the girl. Again the robed assailant tried to drill her. His fist never got close. The large man stepped forward and wrapped his hand about the attacker’s neck and dragged him backward. He twisted violently and turned, hurling the now lifeless body into the wall with enough force to cause it to shudder.

She fell to the floor and backed away as the second of the assassins pulled the blade from his cloak and lunged at the big man…for all the good it did him.

Her savior just glared the whole time. His expression didn’t change. He stepped forward and latched his huge paw around the attacker’s neck, stopping him dead and lifting from the ground. He reached out and wrapped his hand around the killer’s fist and tore the blade free amid the crack of bones. He then lifted the cloaked figure higher before slamming him down onto the concrete with authority. The would-be killer actually bounced as he landed. His hood fell back, revealing that he had no eyes, only runes burned into the flesh where eyes would be.

She gasped and drew further back. But this seemed not to bother her rescuer at all.

“Keine Mittel nicht (No means no).” He said before driving the blade down into the man’s skull. Blood geysered into the air. He rose to his feet and looked at her. “Sie sprechen Englisch, Mädchen (You speak English, girl)?”

Slowly she nodded. “I was born in New Jersey.” She said, with a hint of a German accent. “Who are you?” She asked him.

“Sorry. Where are my manners?” He bowed regally. “Nicholas Flamel, at your service. If I’m not mistaken you’re Isana Roch.” He offered her his hand.

She paused a moment before taking it. He pulled her to her feet. “How did you know that?” She asked him, fear in her voice.

“I pay very well to be informed of people of note. And a lovely young potential slayer such as yourself is of note.” He sighed, sadly. “And Regina is a friend.”

“You knew my Watcher?” Isana asked, her voice hitching.

“I do. She survived the attack of these bastards.” He said, booting the dead body near him. “She’s in hospital. My wife tended her while I came to aid you. Come. I’ll take you to see her.”

Isana smiled and followed along with him. He led her to a picture perfect Jaguar Mark 2 Saloon. “This is a really nice car.” She said, smiling.

“Bought it brand new in London, October 19th, 1967. I had to wait until they had one in black.” Nicholas said as he opened the door for her. “My lady.”

She gave him a sweet smile and slid into the car. It was extremely comfortable and very well appointed. It was obvious the man took pride in it. He climbed in and looked at her. “Fasten your seatbelt, dear.” He nodded as she did so. He did likewise and fired the car up.

Isana wasn’t exactly an automotive aficionado, but she knew enough to know that the growling rumbling powerplant beneath the bonnet was anything but stock. “This…isn’t the engine that came with this car, is it?”

“Oh, heavens no. That motor quit some time ago. I drive quite a bit. This is the supercharged five-liter V-8 that Jaguar puts in their F-type sports cars. Five hundred and sixty-seven horsepower at the rear wheel. It’s got quite a bit of pep.” He exampled this by roasting the tires off as he took off from the nightclub. “Pardon me, but I’ve got to make a phone call.”

“How did you know where to find me?” She asked him.

“A friend called me. He knows I’m in Germany this time of year and he informed me of a premonition from a young lady he works with. She knew what was happening and gave me the information needed to find you before it was too late.” He dialed a number and put the phone up to his ear as he drove.

“Angel Investigations, we help the helpless," Cordelia answered, happily.

“Cordelia. It’s Nicholas.”

“Did you find her?” Cordy asked.

“Indeed I did. She’s in my car as we speak. You were right on the money. Same no eyed bastards as last time.”

“What are you going to do with her?”

“My wife and I will keep an eye on her and her Watcher until…”

“You managed to save her Watcher, too?” Cordy asked, surprised. In her vision, the woman had been stabbed in the back.

“Her wounds were severe, but we managed to get her to hospital.” Nick offered. “When she’s well enough to travel, we’ll take her to Rome to my estate. From there, we can figure out what to do.”

“Any idea why these guys are attacking potential slayers?”

“No clue.” He said, shaking his head. “I’m sure the reasons will be made clear soon enough.”

“Thanks for your help, Nicholas," Cordy said.

“It was my pleasure. Rather fun to be honest. It’s been ages since I got my hands dirty. Glad to see I haven’t lost my touch.”

“I’ve been kind of hesitant to bring it up, but…I think there are gonna be more. More girls like her.” Cordy said, her voice solemn.

“I’m sure there will be.” He said. “I can’t be everywhere all the time, but I’ll do what I can here in Europe.”

“Thank you, Nicholas. I’ve gotta go and help Angel with Connor.” She said.

“I’ll speak with you later, dear.” He said. “Give Angel and the group my best.” He ended the call.

Isana listened to the man and tried to remember where she’d heard his name before. She was quite the history buff and was sure she’d heard the name somewhere previously. “Why is it I think I’ve heard of you?” She asked him.

He looked at her. “Probably because I’m famous.” He said, simply. “I’ve um…” He smiled. “I’ve been around a while, young lady. A very, very  _long_ while.”

At that moment, she understood exactly who he was. “The Philosopher’s Stone.” She said, whimsical.

He chuckled and nodded. “Nice to know that someone still has an interest in obscure history.”

“The Stone is a myth isn’t it?” She asked him. He shrugged but gave no confirmation. “Just, out of curiosity, how old are you?”

He furrowed his brow. “Now let me see…” He thought a moment. “Six hundred and eighty-four, if memory serves. My wife Perenelle just had her six hundred and eightieth birthday last week.” He smiled brightly. “I had Sir Elton John and Sir Paul McCartney flown to my estate to play a private concert for her. She was very happy.”

Isana couldn’t help but smile as he spoke of his wife. It was obvious, even after nearly seven centuries, he was still in love with the woman.

 

Justine walked along beside Principal Wood as he showed her around. For her first day of work, she’d actually cleaned up rather well. She wore a pair of snug slacks, a charcoal gray button down shirt and her customary leather jacket. Her hair had been pulled back in a long red ponytail. For work, she’d decided to try and quit smoking, and at present was chewing gum. The last thing she wanted to do when working was smell like a smoke-shop. Spike, however, was a little uncertain about what she was doing now.

“It’s a good way to earn some extra money. And besides, I’ve been where a lot of these kids are. They just wanna bitch to someone that will just listen. Most of them don’t have someone to even talk to.”

“Yes but when everyone’s advice is going to be inevitably ‘beat the bloody hell out of them’ things are going to start to look a might suspicious, love," Spike said, grinning.

She playfully slapped him. “I have more pearls of wisdom than that.” She said, shaking her head. “Just.”

As they walked along, she was pleased to see she had a cubicle near a hallway window. She was excited, to be honest. One thing she loved to do was people watch. And high school kids, from her experience, were a pretty interesting group to observe. “We’ll sort of feel our way around. Some students will be sent to you, and others, I’m hoping, will start to come in on their own.”

Justine shrugged. “Let’s hope so. A lot of kids here need the help, I’m sure. If not I shouldn’t worry, should I?”

“You’ll be surprised. You’re the youngest, and, uh, least stuffy member of this faculty. I think the students are gonna want to come in and talk to you. And when they do, don’t evaluate them. Just listen. They need to feel like there’s someone around here who actually understands them.” Wood offered, smiling.

“Can I give detention?” Justine asked, jokingly, yet curious.

“Okay by me. A little authority can be a wonderful thing. Just remember that while you are here to help, you’re not here to be their friend. Trust me, you open that door, and these students will eat you alive.”

Justine chuckled. “You heard about the previous two principals, I take it?”

Wood was looking off at a subtle commotion in the hall and didn’t seem to catch what she’d said. “Hmm?” He looked back at her.

“Forget it," Justine said, taking a seat at her desk and looking everything over. “Never thought I’d be here.” She snickered quietly.

“Okay then. Just remember, there’s only three things these kids understand: the boot, the bat, and the bastinado.” Justine just raised an eyebrow. “It’s the…it’s a…it’s a bad joke. It’s the bastinado. No one ever knows what that thing is.”

Justine shook her head. “I know exactly what it is. A wooden rod to slap the soles of the feet in Turkish prisons.” She then shrugged. “But if made with the correct wood, it makes an awesome Billy club.”

He actually laughed at that. “I think you’re gonna fit in just fine. Is there something else?”

She bit her lip and nodded. “Yeah. Uh, just one more thing.” She rose to her feet. “I mean I know I sold myself pretty well and all, but…I was just curious – and not that I ain’t grateful or anything – but I was just wondering why you…?”

“Hired you?” He asked her.

She nodded. “I didn’t even graduate from high school. I just got my GED. My only college education came in the form of frat keggers.”

“I know.” He said.

“Was it my sparkling personality?” She asked him. “I did pull a stint at a Jack In the Box for a few months a couple years ago.”

“I’m a vegetarian.”

“They make salads.” Justine countered quickly.

He sniggered. “These students need someone around here who understands them, and I need someone who understands these students. Why? Is there something about you that I don’t know that maybe I should?”

Justine grinned widely. “Principal Wood?” She asked, moving closer to him. “We’ve  _all_  got secrets.”

“You don’t have to tell me that. I’m a principal.” He said laughing. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to get back to work.”

Justine nodded. “Thanks. I’m just gonna have a look around. Get to know the place. Make sure it’s all…school-like.” She left the office and just walked through the halls, looking about. “Man, my school wasn’t even close to being this nice.”

“Let go!” She heard a boy shout from down the hall.

She smiled and trotted toward the sound. She caught sight of three older students dragging a somewhat nerdy boy into the bathroom. “Glad to see some things never change.” She said as she stepped into the room behind them. The students immediately stopped what they were doing.

“This is the boy’s bathroom. You aren’t supposed to be in here.” The ringleader said sharply.

“Why? Afraid I’m gonna laugh at your tiny ass dick?” She asked him. “Let the kid go. He’s got enough problems without you three fuckin’ up his day.”

“Why don’t you just mind your own business, bitch? Before I drop you.” The boy snapped.

“Please.” She said, shaking her head. “Don’t try for badass. It isn’t your style. Now you’re gonna let him go. There is no or else, there is no option B. You’re just gonna step aside and Poindexter there is gonna walk out of here and go back to class.” She motioned for the boy to come toward her.

The smaller boy tried leaving, but two of the bullies grabbed his hair and held him there. “We’re not done with him yet.”

“Yeah.” She said. “You really are.” She moved forward and stood in front of the closest bully. “Tell you what, boy toy. You leave him alone, you get me. All three of you do.” She pulled her jacket off and tossed it onto the sink. She then casually popped the top two buttons on her shirt, giving him a good look at her rather ample cleavage. “And unlike the skanks you’ll find in this school?” She grabbed his crotch. “I actually know what the fuck I’m doing. I’ll have you screaming. I’ll be more than willing to work all three of you over. I’ll work you until you’re begging me to stop.”

They all looked at her. As a group, they pushed the nerdy boy toward the door. “Get fuckin’ lost.” One of the growled.

He didn’t need any further prompting. As soon as he was clear of the room. She turned back to the three of them. “Smart. Otherwise, this would have gone a lot worse.” She quickly punched the first boy directly in the balls. He hit the tile floor with a strangled sob. Her next shot arced in, taking the second boy across the temple. He fell and smacked his face on the edge of the sink. He landed unconscious on the floor.

That left one student to face off with her. He looked at his friends and back to her. “Who are you?” He asked.

“I’m the girl that looks out for the underdog, hoss. I’m the big dog now. And you three motherfuckers are in my kennel.” She walked toward him, angrily. “And I don’t like it when my pack misbehaves.” She shot out and grabbed his hair. “So do me and yourselves a favor. Cut it the fuck out. I have to save another nerd from your asses and shit’s gonna get real.” She stepped back and threw him onto the floor, bouncing his head off the ground. “Glad we could all hash this out like reasonable people.” She said, grabbing her jacket. She stepped out of the bathroom and sighed. “I need a cigarette.” She said, heading back down the hallway. “I think I’m gonna like this place.” She said, with a spring in her step.

As she sat down at her desk, Robin Wood looked out and saw Justine smiling. He was glad to see her happy with her current job. He was glad to have her.

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

Faith knelt beside the headstone, staring at the mausoleum a few feet from her. She’d counted four vampires going in and none coming out. “What’s your count?” She asked the girl behind her.

“Four.” Dawn offered quietly.

“Good.” Faith returned. “Now.” She made sure to hold Dawn’s eyes. “How old and how strong are these guys?”

“They all looked new. They were still wearing tuxedos and suits and stuff. And they looked like they still had dirt on them?” The teen’s look was questioning.

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Faith shot back. “You have to be sure.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure they were new. Most experienced vamps aren’t perpetual game face. They try to hide it a little bit. Like Spike does.”

Faith nodded. “Good eye. That’s right, they are baby vamps. I can sense them and I can usually tell by how they feel how old they are. You won’t be able to tell by feel. So you gotta watch the cues. What else did you notice?”

Dawn concentrated for a second. “They seemed to be all, stiff. Like they’re unsure how their body works.”

“Trust me, that one goes away fast. Minutes for some. Don’t even think about that when you’re hunting.” Faith said. “There’s four in that crypt. It’s not that big, which means it’s tight quarters. When in close like that, what’s the first rule?”

“Don’t get surrounded.” Dawn returned. “Are we gonna go in and get them?”

“Yeah. But I want you to stay behind me, just outside the door. They can only come at you one at a time. Don’t get flashy, don’t get cocky. Stake and done.”

“Stake and done," Dawn said. She rose to her feet and shook her arms and hands. “Stake and done.” She repeated.

Faith likewise rose and stretched. It had been incredibly dry on the vampire front lately. Four at once was a gift as far as she was concerned. She wasn’t exactly sure how Buffy would have felt about having her sister actively patrol with the slayer…until the radio blared the lines “ _Feeling all right in the noise and the light. But that’s what lights my fire. Hellraiser, in the thunder and heat. Hellraiser, rock you back in your seat. Hellraiser and I’ll make it come true Hellraiser, I’ll put a spell on you_.” From the song of the same name by Ozzy Osbourne.

At that moment, she knew Buffy approved of her inclusion of Dawn. The girl needed to have power, to feel the strength. Now she did. And it was intoxicating to her. This was the third time they’d hunted together. Dawn missed the heart on the first vampire she tangled with. She’d never made the mistake again.

“Let’s go.” Faith said, moving toward the mausoleum. “What’s the plan?”

“You go in, I wait at the door and stake any that try and leave," Dawn said. “But I don’t see that happening.” She added sadly.

“Oh, it’s gonna happen. I’ll probably chuck one your way if it goes too smoothly and none try to make a break for it, so be ready.” Faith said. “You came here to kill vamps, remember? Not watch me do it all.”

Dawn nodded and kept her cool. They approached the door of the crypt and Faith planted a boot into it, sending the metal banded wood into the interior with authority. “Good evening, gentlemen. I’d say I hope I’m not interrupting anything but who are we kidding? I so seriously don’t care if I am or not.” Faith said, grinning. “Introductions first. I’m the slayer, and you’re history.” She pulled a pair of stakes and spun them in her hands. “Who dies first?”

The four vampires growled at her. “Slayer.” One of them said a heartbeat before they all lunged at her.

She was a dervish of action and brutality. She surged forward. The first two were dust in a flash as she stabbed the closest vamp. She spun on her heel, flipping the stake in her other hand and ramming it into the second vampire’s chest. That left two. She slid to her knees as they closed in and impaled one of them in the side of the knee, causing his leg to buckle. He fell and slammed his face into the sarcophagus in the middle of the room, clutching it for support.

She came back to her feet and delivered a hard uppercut to the final vamp’s crotch before gripping his belt with her right hand and the tie around his neck with her left. She used her rising momentum to lift him up and over, throwing him toward the door. “He’s all yours, Dawnie.”

The girl was there and ready. She had the stake in her hand and was poised. The vampire crashed the ground and rolled to a stop, coming to his feet in Dawn’s face. He growled and smiled at her. It was the last thing he did before Dawn put a boot into his groin. He howled in pain and staggered forward, cupping his hands to his bruised genitalia.

Dawn dropped to a crouch and spun, taking his legs from beneath him. He hit the dirt hard but had little time to contemplate his change in location before Dawn’s stake pierced his heart, sending the demon back to hell and the body of the dead boy to the four winds.

Faith tossed the vamp and returned her attention to the beast that leaned against the sarcophagus. She gripped his head and drew it back, before smashing his face into the stone. He slid bonelessly to the floor. She rolled him over with her foot and stared down at him. “Like I said.” She pushed the stake into his heart. “History.” She rose to see Dawn stake her own vampire. “Nice work, D.” She said, moving toward her.

Dawn excitedly explained what she did to him. Faith grinned widely and patted her on the back. “Right on.” She offered her fist. Dawn bumped it happily. The girls left the graveyard and headed home.

Tara and Willow both stood at the island in the kitchen preparing sandwiches for the pair. They both smiled when they heard the rumble of Faith’s Roadrunner. According to the clock on the wall, it was just after eleven at night. The rest of the house was already abed. The front door opened and closed. Faith and Dawn both came into the kitchen happily.

Faith moved over and hugged and kissed her girls. “Fun to go slaying, but more fun to come home.” She said, her arms about her girls’ waists.

“Uh-uh," Willow said, pulling away. “You eat first.” She held the plate up.

“Ooh, pastrami.” Faith said, taking the plate and moving to a stool.

Tara offered Dawn a plate. “Here, sweetie.”

“Thanks, Tara.” The teen said. She started eating a little more gingerly than Faith, who seemed content to inhale her food.

“Any luck tonight?” Willow asked. She tried very hard to hide her concern, but some always seemed to creep in. She was still not a hundred percent on Dawn patrolling with Faith. She trusted Faith implicitly but accidents could happen. Faith was readymade for the life of a slayer. Dawn wasn’t. Not to say the girl couldn’t handle herself. She’d been showing incredible promise and was what Faith would call ‘born again hard’, but she was still young and human.

But that mindset also made it feel as if it were a betrayal to the young girl. Her and Xander were the same age as Dawn when they started helping Buffy with her slaying. Dawn, however, had a much greater advantage than they did. She had a slayer and very gifted Watcher to help train her. And the teen took her lessons very, very seriously.

“Yeah. Found four.” Faith said. “I took three, half-pint took one out. Pretty wickedly, too. I was impressed.”

Willow and Tara both grinned, looking at the girl. “Good for you,” Willow said, relief in her voice. If Dawn or Faith heard the intonation, they didn’t show any sign.

Faith finished her food and belched into her hand. “I’m gonna go and grab a shower.” She shot in for a kiss on both ladies before trotting through the house and up the stairs.

“She’s proud of you," Tara said, taking Faith’s plate and washing it.

“Yeah, I know," Dawn said, a little solemnly.

“What’s the matter, sweetie?” Tara asked.

“I wish Kit were here," Dawn said.

“Can she not come over?” Willow asked.

Dawn shook her head. “She’s gotta house sit. Her mom and her girlfriend went to Los Angeles for some art expo. They’re gonna be gone all weekend.”

Willow raised an eyebrow. “Why not go over there?”

Dawn looked at her…and sighed. “I am  _dumb_.” She said, reaching into her pocket and removing her cell phone. Willow and Tara smiled at each other and went about cleaning up the kitchen.

“Hey, Dawn.” The girl answered the phone happily. “What’s up?”

“I was just offered a suggestion that I feel pretty stupid for not thinking of myself.” Dawn returned, chuckling. “Do you think your mom and Sally would mind if I came over there for the weekend?”

Kit smiled. “I’d love it if you did. I, I didn’t think about it either. I didn’t ask my mom but I’m sure she wouldn’t mind. She didn’t say anything. As long as we don’t trash the house, she won’t have a problem with it.”

“Good. I’m gonna grab a shower, then I’ll be over.” Dawn said, happily.

“You know…” Kit began. She bit her lip and decided to go for broke.

“I know…what?” Dawn asked, unsure where the girl was headed.

“You can just come over here and let me wash your back for you.” Kit said, softly.

“I’ll be there in about five minutes.” The teen said. “Bye.” She hung up the phone and ran to her bedroom.

Tara and Willow both giggled as the girl whipped out of the kitchen. “She’s got it bad," Tara said from her place by the sink.

Willow reached her hand out and used her power to draw the blonde Wiccan rapidly to her waiting arms. Tara let out a squeak. “We agreed I could use magic for important things.” She plundered Tara’s lips with her own. “I consider this important.”

Tara wrapped her arms around the woman. “I’ll let it slide.” She said, relaxing into the embrace.

 

She knelt in the darkness, waiting. Her heart pounded as she sat patiently. She’d been having the dreams. Figures in the night, hunting, and killing. Girls like her were being slaughtered. Some were being saved, or so she heard. But for every one that was saved, another fell. Weeks ago they came for her. Eyeless faces and glinting blades.

But she wasn’t like most girls. She’d been trained,  _honed_  to fight the supernatural. And while these men, these… _harbingers_  weren’t human, they were far from what she’d faced before. They could die. Just like mortal men.

Three came for her. Three died. She’d been running ever since. She looked up and down the alley. She looked at her phone. The picture of a girl, a bit younger than her with short close-cropped blonde hair and wide, innocent blue eyes stared back at her. She could hear the sounds of running. She lifted her head and watched.

Just as she had predicted, the girl came running down the alley as fast as her slender adolescent legs could carry her. On her heels, were two of the cloaked men. They ran tirelessly, these silent hunters.

The girl rushed past, panting heavily. It was time to act.

She lunged from the shadows, the baseball bat she carried, gripped tightly in her hands. She swung at the first figure’s head. Her duct-tape wrapped bat cracked into the first man’s skull, flipping him up in the air and dropping him lifelessly onto his stomach. She spun, dipping into a crouch and hammering the second attacker in the knee. His leg broke instantly, causing him to topple to the ground. She snatched one of their daggers from the ground and quickly stabbed both men in the craniums.

The blonde girl slowed to a stop and turned to see the fight unfold. She was exhausted. She had no idea where the figures had come from or why they were after her.

But she was enthralled when she watched a girl not much older than her explode from the darkness and took the pair down with a vengeance. Now, she stood framed by the street light like an angel from on high. Her long flaming red hair flowed on the breeze lightly. Slowly her savior turned toward her. Her emerald green eyes flashed. The girl took the knives and lifted her bat. She slowly walked toward her, her face a mask of stone.

The smaller blonde girl watched as the taller redhead walked past her without saying a word. She finally stopped at the mouth of the alley. “You comin’?” She asked before moving on.

She swallowed and trotted along to catch up. “Thank you for saving me.” She said, trying to catch her breath.

“What’s your name?” The redhead asked. “Mine’s Macy.”

“Tamara. But everyone calls me Tammy.”

“You got friends and family, Tammy?” Macy asked as she walked toward the old motorhome.

“I had a Watcher, but those men…” She began to sob.

“Ain’t got time to cry. I know how you feel. My Watcher got killed too.” Macy reached for the door of the motorhome and stopped. “I’m a potential. Like you.” She pulled the door open and climbed in.

Tammy followed her and stopped when she looked around at the mess. “What happened in here?”

“Life," Macy said. She sat down and sighed heavily. She pulled out a laptop and powered it on.

Tammy began cleaning the RV. She figured it was the least she could do.

“Come here," Macy said. She pointed to the screen. “Before my Watcher died, she was compiling this list. According to what she’d been hearing from the Watcher’s Council, something or someone is trying to kill potential slayers all over the globe. A few have been saved, but some haven’t. Everyone that lived reported these guys,” She showed Tammy a picture of one of her attackers. “Coming after them. This is a list of all potentials in the country and their whereabouts. I aim to collect as many as I can before heading west.”

“Why west?” Tammy asked.

“Sunnydale, California," Macy said. “Because everything, from what Alison told me, is going to culminate there.” She pointed to the map, clear across the country from where they were in Baltimore. “That’s where the current slayer is. And that’s where we need to be.”

“But…why do we need to go there? If that’s where all the dangerous things are gonna be, then why not head, I don’t know, south?”

Macy looked at her. “Because, whether you like it or not, you’re a part of the fight, Tammy. You had a Watcher that was training you, right?”

“I just met him about three months ago. He really didn’t have time to teach me much.”

“Yeah, that explains it. My Watcher adopted me when I was two. I’ve been training with her for fifteen years.” Macy shook her head. “I’ve been having the dreams. So have you.”

“I haven’t…” Tammy began, shyly.

“Don’t lie to me. You ain’t good at it.” Macy said. “From beneath you, it devours.” She watched the girl go pale. “Yeah, see? I know you’ve been seeing it. The mouth of hell.” She pointed to Sunnydale. “That’s where it is. And that’s where we need to go.”

“I’m too scared," Tammy said, her voice cracking.

“I know. So am I. But we still have to. You know I’m right. Fate’s gonna pull you there one way or another.” Macy rose to her feet. “I need someone to help me. There are a lot of girls like us that are waiting for someone to save them, just like I saved you. You gonna turn your back on them?”

Tammy looked up into Macy’s eyes. “No.” She said, with a confidence she sure as hell didn’t feel.

“Then let’s get moving. There’s another potential in Indianapolis and it’s a ten-hour drive.” Macy said, climbing up behind the wheel of the motorhome.

Tammy took her place in the passenger seat. “Where did you get this thing, anyway?”

“Stole it from a gas station in Maine," Macy said, taking off from the side of the road.

“You’re kidding.”

“Yeah. My Watcher owned it. Figured she didn’t need it anymore.” Macy offered. “I know this is a lot to deal with. And I know you gotta be scared shitless. But…this is what we were destined to do. If we don’t make this stand…you saw what the dreams showed us.”

“And I really wished I hadn’t," Tammy said, sadly. “I never really had time to deal with all the weirdness, you know? I mean, I haven’t even seen a vampire.”

“Count yourself lucky. I’ve been fighting them actively for the past two years.” Macy returned. She looked at Tammy. “And they still scare the shit out of me.”

“What happened to your parents?” Tammy asked.

Macy’s eyes immediately filled with sorrow. “Alison saved me from them. She’d arrived at my house in Buffalo to talk to them about what I was and found the pair of them getting ready to drain me dry. Apparently, they’d been turned and were newly risen. She staked them both and took off with me. She’s been raising me ever since.”

“My God," Tammy said, shaking her head. “That’s terrible.”

“What about you?” Macy asked.

“My father was killed in Iraq ten years ago. My mom struggled with alcohol and drugs. I was taken away and put into foster care. Michael found me a few days later and took me in. That was three months ago.” She sighed. “He was killed a few nights ago by those guys. I’ve been running from them ever since.”

“How’d you shake them for so long?” Macy asked.

“I stayed in public places, stealing what sleep I could. I slept a little in the hospital waiting room. For some reason, they won’t go into heavily populated places. I would walk around in grocery stores and sit in restaurants just ordering sodas until they told me to leave.”

“Smart," Macy said. “It shows you aren’t as ill-trained as you think you are.” She looked at the girl. “You immediately noticed a pattern and capitalized on it. That’s good thinking.”

“What do you know about the current slayer?” Tammy asked. “My Watcher never said anything about her.”

“Mine did. Apparently, Alison was friends with her Watcher when she was in Boston.” Macy began. “Her name is Faith and she’s…she’s had a bit of a rough go of being a slayer.”

“What do you mean  _rough go_?”

“Legal trouble," Macy said. “She apparently went off the reservation for a while and killed people.”

“Oh my God," Tammy said. “And we’re supposed to track her down?”

“From what Alison told me, she’s back on the light side. She did her time in jail and is back on the roster.” Macy shrugged. “I just know that until we get there, none of us potentials are safe.”

“Maybe not even then," Tammy said, fear in her voice.

“She paid her debt. She’s square with the house again.” Macy said. “But I do understand where you’re coming from. Girl isn’t exactly filling me with the warm and fuzzies, either.” She sighed. “But she’s the only chance we got.”

Tammy leaned back in the seat and crossed her arms. Moments later, she was asleep. And with her sleep came terrible dreams.

Macy watched her and fought past the lump in her throat as she heard Tammy whimper and cry in her sleep. She reached down and lifted the old coffee cup and slugged the contents. She’d long since stopped trying to doze. She was sick and tired of waking up in cold sweats and screaming herself hoarse. When she ran herself to exhaustion, going five and six days without sleep, she didn’t dream. And it would be two more days until slumber pulled her kicking and screaming into its embracing blackness.

Her tenuous grip on her sanity would allow for little else.

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

“You did good work on her. She looks good.” The man said, looking over the body of an elegant looking woman in her mid to late fifties. She was dressed in a chocolate brown dress, with her hands crossed over her lap. Her hair was perfectly curled and she lay at peace in her beautiful dark wooden casket.

“Thanks. She’s all set for the service tomorrow.” The mortician said, smiling to him.

“Good. All right then. I’ll see you in the morning.” The men both made their way out of the prep room.

“G’night.” The mortician offered, turning out the light as they left. He closed the door behind him.

Faith waited a few seconds and threw the coffin lid open and climbed out. She clicked on her flashlight.

Xander quietly eased out of a second casket. “Hey.” He said to Faith.

Faith visibly jumped. “Jesus. How is a guy your size actually  _quiet_?” She asked with her hand on her chest.

He looked at his watch. “Thirty-three minutes. Since when do we go through all this trouble for one lousy vampire? Excuse me, one lousy  _potential_ vampire.”

Faith shook her head. “Vampire by vampire, X-man. That’s the only way I know how. Unless there’s some really kinky dance I’m not in on.”

One of the other caskets in the room began shuddering and thudding. The pair moved over and quickly pulled open the child-size coffin.

Dawn sat up, gasping for air. “I think this thing has a freakin’ child lock on it.”

Faith chuckled. “Explains why you couldn’t get out.”

“Funny," Dawn said. “You know, I’m not the shortest one here. I don’t know why I had to be in the kid coffin.”

“You want me to have to fight a vampire with a cramp?” Faith asked her.

“She’s new. Or at least she’s going to be. You could have taken the night off.” Dawn said.

“Yeah, and the one night I do that, I end up with you dead. Or worse, turned. I do  _not_  think so.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, the world’s most annoying vampire," Xander said, chuckling. Dawn smacked him on the arm. “Sorry.” He said with a smile.

“I let you get turned, B would never forgive me. Neither would your mother.” Faith said. “I’m dead set on getting into heaven when I kark it. I do  _not_ want two generations of Summers women pissed off at me. Been there, done that, got blood all over the t-shirt.”

Xander moved over to the woman in the casket. “I don’t know. Amateur opinion here, but she looks dead. I mean like natural causes dead.” He said, shaking his head.

“Paper said she had unusual cuts and contusions on her neck," Dawn said, stepping up beside him.

“Maybe she cut herself and then died naturally of embarrassment.” Xander offered. Faith handed him the flashlight.

“She looks…” Dawn began.

“Peaceful.” Faith said.

The woman opened her eyes. They were the amber-yellow of her predatory breed. “I am not peaceful.”

“I gotta cure for that.” Faith said as she rammed a stake into the woman’s chest. “Give it a second.” The woman turned to dust. “Now you’re real damn peaceful.”

“I always thought closed caskets were more tasteful anyway," Dawn said as Faith lowered the lid.

 

Justine sat in her cubicle, leaning back in her chair with her booted feet resting on her desk. She’d done her best to dress professionally. She decided on a pair of black slacks and a black button down short sleeve shirt. Her leather jacket was hanging over the back of her seat. She had the small Bose shelf system on the classic rock station. Currently, she listened to  _She’s A Beauty_ by the Tubes. She was singing along and waiting for anyone to come and talk to her.

After almost a half an hour of sitting and listening to music, a rather shy, introverted looking girl stepped into the room. She was tall with long straight dark hair, a narrow face and slender build. She was clad in a rather unflattering long sleeve shirt that, if Justine were to be honest with herself was the same color as baby shit. She also wore a plain brown skirt and a pair of chocolate brown hiking boots. “Hello?”

Justine dropped her feet to the floor. “Come on in. Have a seat.” She said, motioning to the chair across from her.

“Mr. Miller sent me here.” The girl offered, sitting down.

“Why is that?” Justine asked her.

“I’m not sure. Maybe ‘cause this guy was picking on me.”

“Any idea why he’s messing with you?” Justine asked.

“He’s a bully.” The girl said.

“To everyone or just you?”

“He seems to be a bully to everyone.” The girl said.

“I know a few things about bullies,” Justine said. “It sucks being made fun of. Dealt with plenty of that crap back in high school. Wasn’t that long ago, believe me. The thing is with bullies like this, they’re really just-,”

“Insecure? Yeah, everyone says that. You know, I’m really tired of everyone being so insecure.”

“No, actually. If he’s insecure, that’s his problem. Doesn’t excuse him being a douche.” She looked at the girl a moment. “What’s your name?”

“Amanda.”

Justine grinned. “I read about you. Word in the halls has it you already solved that problem. Bounced his skull off the street if what I’ve heard is correct.”

Amanda nodded. “I stuck up for myself. The other day after class, I jumped him in the parking lot and I slammed his stupid-ass insecure face right into the pavement.”

Justine couldn’t help but smile. “Sounds to me like you solved the problem.”

“I guess that’s another reason Mr. Miller wanted me to see you. Do you think I should pound on him some more?”

“Don’t really think it’s necessary," Justine said. “I have two questions for you. One, did you tell any of the staff members about what he was doing, and two, did you tell him to cut it out?”

Amanda nodded. “I told Mr. Miller, but he just said boys will be boys and I shouldn’t let it bother me.”

“Christ, I hate it when teachers say that shit," Justine said, rubbing her face. “Did you tell this punk to cut it out?”

“I did. He didn’t.”

“Look, Amanda. I’m not gonna be one of those counselors that tells you violence isn’t the answer. Because, frankly, that’s bullshit. Fact of human history, naked aggression has solved more problems than diplomacy. But here’s the thing. Guys like this? He’s a bully. Whether it’s home life, bad upbringing, too many video games and not enough gray matter to differentiate between Halo and Hello, whatever the reason, he doesn’t  _get_  that he can’t do this kind of crap and get away with it. He thinks the rules don’t apply to him…until someone comes along and believes the same thing. That’s where he’s going to get you. He used words…leaves no evidence. You used violence. Now he’s getting his face stitched back together.” She pointed at Amanda. “And he can point to you as the one that did it.”

“So…what are you saying?”

“Fight fire with fire. He wants to start a war of words, fight back with words. You’d be amazed the kind of damage you can do to a guy, being a girl.” Justine said. “And every man gets insanely pissed when you call his…” She motioned toward her crotch. “Into question.”

Amanda gave her a smile. “I guess…I never really thought about that.”

“Something I’ve learned? Being a girl, you’ve got the most powerful weapon there is. A vagina.” Justine said. “Next time someone tries screwing with you, don’t resort to violence. If there’s gonna be evidence left behind, that isn’t the kind you want.”

“I understand," Amanda said, rising from her chair. “Thanks.”

“Go get ‘em, tiger," Justine said as the girl walked out of her cubicle, happily. “Another satisfied customer.”

She jotted down the information she needed to on the form Principal Wood gave her when another boy stepped in. He was a tall black boy with a gray hoodie. He looked like he was pissed off.

“I don’t wanna talk to you.” He said, staring at her.

“Then what are you doing here?” Justine said. She stood, walked past him, and looked up and down the hall.

“What are you doing?” He asked her.

“Looking for the guy with the gun," Justine said. She turned and regarded him. “If you don’t wanna talk to me then go back to class.” She moved over and sat down behind the desk.

“You’re not gonna, you know, try to get me to open up or some shit?”

“Not in my job description. What I do is simple. I sit here, you walk through the door and start talking. I offer advice if what you’re talking about makes any sense to me or I direct you to someone that does know how to help you. I ain’t a shrink. I’m a youth counselor. What you do or don’t wanna talk about is on you.” She crossed her arms. “Take a seat, tell me what’s on your mind.”

The boy looked at her and sat down. “I’m scared. I don’t want to be left all alone. My brother’s joining up with the Marines. Whew. You know, if he knew I was making a fool of myself, he’d smack me in my head. I guess I’m just being stupid.”

“You live alone with your brother?” Justine asked. The boy shook his head. “Then what makes you think you’ll be all alone? What about your parents?”

“They’re fine, but…they argue a lot. I think they might be heading for a divorce.” He sighed heavily. “My brother and me, we’re close. But…”

“Sounds like your brother’s a hardass. Marine Corps could do some good for him.” Justine looked at him. “What are you really afraid of?”

The boy looked at her. “What do you mean?”

“You aren’t afraid of him joining the Corps. That ain’t what’s got you spooked.” She raised an eyebrow. “It’s that you think once he enlists, you’ll never see him again, isn’t it?”

He stared at her, shocked, then slowly lowered his head and nodded. “I’m just all messed up right now.”

“You’re not messed up. It isn’t messed up to worry about your brother.” Justine said to him. “Have you talked to him? Have you told him how you feel?”

“No. No, I don’t wanna talk to him. I don’t wanna do that. I don’t wanna talk to him.”

“See?” She leaned forward. “Now, your brother would just think you’re being a pussy. Talk to him, bud. That’s the best advice I can give you. It’s either that or join the Corps so you can look out for him.”

He looked at her, shocked. “You…you think I can?”

“You look like you’re in good shape. And this whole bullshit confidence problem you have about talking to people would be stripped out of you real quick.” She grinned. “And imagine how proud of you your brother would be.”

He grinned widely and stood up. “Thanks.” He said before trotting out of her office.

She sighed and rubbed her face in her hands. “What was I thinking?” She heard footsteps and looked up at a tall, blonde jock with broad shoulders and a charming smile. “Go back to class David.” She said to him.

“Wait, you know me?” He asked her.

“Dude. You’re captain of the football team. Everyone in school knows who you are and knows that you skip more classes than anyone else in the entire county. Go back to class.” She said to him pointing to the door of her office.

“Man.” He whined, leaving her office.

“This is gonna be my whole day isn’t it?” She continued her paperwork.

As the day dragged on, more students actually came to see her. It was just after lunch when her most entertaining student entered her office.

“So, Josh. What’s on your mind?” She asked the rather nerdy looking boy. He had a head of curly red hair, glasses and an orange long sleeve shirt with a crystal hanging from a chain around his neck.

“Well, I’m worried that I’m…gay.” He said, somewhat embarrassed.

“Wanna blow job?” Justine asked him. “Right here, right now. You want me to suck you off?” She asked, plainly.

He stared at her blank-faced. She saw him shudder a little bit and turn red. “I uh, you, you …um. Oh, god.”

“You just nutted in your pants a little, didn’t you?” She asked him. He turned an even brighter shade of red. “Don’t worry. You’re not gay.” She pulled a pad out of her desk and jotted something on it, then tore the front page off and handed it to him. “Here. Go home and change. This’ll cover you.” He took it and ran out of the office as quickly as he could.

It was nearly an hour before her next student came in. Justine had to admit, she was cute in sort of a small, pixie kind of way. She was blonde, with a few purple streaks running through her hair. She had a black t-shirt and jeans on and seemed…down. “Excuse me.” The girl said. She had a voice that, strangely, seemed to match her perfectly.

“You must be Cassie," Justine said. “Drag up a stump.”

She sat down and rested her binder on the desk.

“According to most of your teachers, you’re not doing your homework," Justine said. “Why is that?”

“It all just…seems kind of…whatever.” She said, shrugging.

“Preaching to the choir, sister," Justine said. “High school sucks. I’m not gonna lie. Unless you’re like, one of the ultra-popular kids, high school blows chunks. But there are some good memories to be made. Time with friends that you’ll probably never see again, shit like that. And the after graduation parties alone are worth the time you put in.”

“I’m not gonna do all that stuff.” Cassie offered.

“You don’t have to. If you don’t think you can hack it in High School, you could always drop out, get your GED and go straight to college. As long as you can pay tuition, colleges don’t care if you graduated or not.”

“I won’t be able to do that either," Cassie said, smiling weakly.

“Why not?” Justine asked.

“I really like that shirt. Where’d you get it?” Cassie asked.

“Wal-Mart," Justine said. “Twelve bucks off the bargain rack. Why can’t you get your GED and hit college?”

“Because next Friday I’m gonna die," Cassie said, her voice serious.

“What makes you say that?” Justine asked, not batting an eyelash.

“I don’t know. It’s just…it’s just something I know is going to happen.” Cassie said, shrugging.

“You plan on taking yourself out?” Justine asked her.

“Suicide? No way.” Cassie said. “Look, can we talk about something else?”

“Give me a couple more questions. Is there a history of medical problems in your family? Mental health issues?”

“My mother had…dreams. She could, she could see things. Things that have happened, like, to other people. I sometimes have those, too. And I saw myself die next Friday.”

“Go to a hospital," Justine said. “Get a full physical. That’s the best advice I can give you. If you don’t wanna die next Friday, you won’t.”

“No, I will," Cassie said.

“Then you are committing suicide," Justine said. “I know for a fact that the future isn’t set. You can change anything you want to. If you wanna die, don’t do anything and be a self-fulfilling prophecy. If you don’t, do something about it.”

Cassie looked at her with a mix of irritation and… _hope_. “What do you mean, you know for a fact that the future isn’t set? All of my mother’s dreams came true.”

“How clear-cut were they?” Justine asked. “Were they typical dreams that were all abstract and shit, or were they really clear and easy to understand?”

“I don’t know. She never really talked about it much. She would just say things like ‘I dreamed this would happen’ kind of thing.”

“And your predictions? Are they always right on the money? Without fail, every time?” Cassie nodded. “How many times have you tried to alter what you saw? Actually, do something about it?”

“I…I’ve never tried. I didn’t think it was possible.” Cassie said.

Justine jotted down the phone number for Angel Investigations. “Call this number. Talk to a girl named Cordelia Chase. She’s like you. She has visions. The only difference is she does everything in her power to keep people from getting hurt. She can help you.” She ripped the paper off and handed it to the girl. “And for the love of god, get a damn physical. At the very least rule out like, appendicitis or something.”

Cassie grinned and took the paper. “Thanks for being so honest and listening to me.”

“Call that number. Talk to Cordelia. She’s a good chick and she can help you through this. Just because you saw it happen doesn’t mean it has to.”

“Thanks. I’ll call her.” Cassie said, getting up. “I gotta get to Trig. I don’t want Mr. Corrigan sending me to Principal Wood again.”

“Good luck, Cassie. My door’s always open.” Justine offered the girl.

“Seriously, I like that shirt," Cassie said, giving her a smile. “You should put a sweater on so it doesn’t get stained.” She left the room.

As soon as she was gone, Justine got up and headed for the principal’s office. She knocked on his door and waited. “Come in.” Wood offered warmly. “Hey, Justine.” He said as she entered the room and closed the door behind her. “Word has it you’re doing a great job out there. Every student seen walking out of your office, aside from Joshua Melon, who was red-faced and sprinting for the exit, had smiles on their faces.”

“He spilled a soda on his pants while we were talking. I gave him a slip to go home and change.” Justine said. “I actually wanted to talk to you about the last student I spoke with. Her name was Cassie.”

“Cassandra Newton. What about her? Her teachers said she’d stopped doing her homework and paying attention in class. I sent her to you to see if you can figure out why.”

“Oh, I found out alright. She thinks she’s gonna die next Friday. Says she knows it for sure.” Justine said. “Kinda threw me for a loop when she said that.”

He leaned back in his chair. “What makes her think that?”

“Says she had a vision or something. Some kind of premonition. Kind of the whole ‘I feel it in my bones’ thing.” Justine said as she moved over and poured a cup of coffee from his coffee maker. “You want a refill?”

He nodded, holding his cup out. “What did you tell her?” Robin asked, curiously.

She poured him a cup and moved back to the pot. “Can I tell you without losing my…I guess I really don’t have a license to lose, do I?” She took a sip of the coffee.

“If it involves the safety of a student, I need to know.” He said, firmly.

“I told her that if she doesn’t wanna die, she won’t. But she’s gotta take steps. I gave her the number of a friend of mine in Los Angeles that she can talk to. She has psychic visions. She’s a Private Investigator. She knows how to deal with the visions. I also told Cassie to go and get a physical.” She bumped the edge of the chair, causing the coffee to slosh toward her. She brought her hand up and kept it from splashing her.

“Nice reflexes.” Wood said, chuckling.

“I like this shirt," Justine said, wiping her hands with a paper towel. “But I gave her the best advice I could.”

Robin looked at her and nodded his approval. “That was actually really good work. You kept your cool in a stressful situation, you approached it professionally and you offered good, firm advice and a way to get Cassie some help. I’m impressed.”

“Does this mean I get a pay raise?”

“No. But you do get my patented appreciative smile…” He grinned at her. “And you get to continue doing your job.”

“Be still my heart," Justine said, happily. “I wanna keep up with this girl. See her a couple times a week. Make sure we get her the help she needs.”

“Better watch out. Starting to sound like you actually give a damn about the students of this school.”

“Can’t have that," Justine said, heading back to her office.

Principal Wood watched her go and gave a wide smile. “She’s good.”

Justine moved back to her desk and sat for a few minutes. She then picked up the phone on her desk and dialed a number. “Yes, this is Justine Cooper. Can I have Dawn come to my office, please?”

A few minutes later, Dawn walked in, looking at Justine. “What’s going on? Something wrong?”

“No," Justine said. She pulled out a copy of the yearbook, flipped to Cassie Newton’s photo and showed it to Dawn. “Meet your new best friend.”

“I have ceramics class with her," Dawn said, sitting down. “She’s cool. At least she was. Now she’s kinda…depressed. Not really sure why.”

“She thinks she’s gonna die by Friday," Justine said. “We’re not gonna let her.”

Dawn looked at her. “You want me to trail her?”

“Yep," Justine said. “Gotta feeling this girl’s got a lot she wants to live for but doesn’t see the point.”

“That’s gotta suck.”

“Do what you gotta do," Justine said. “She deserves a chance.”

Justine thought about something. “You’re wearing a tank top under that shirt, right?”

Dawn nodded. “Yeah, why?”

“Gimme the shirt you’re wearing," Justine said.

“Why?!” Dawn snapped.

“Cassie said that I need to put on a sweater before I stained my shirt.” Justine pulled the shirt off and immediately stuffed it into her backpack.

Dawn quickly took her shirt off and handed it to the girl. “I don’t think it’s your size.”

“It’ll work until we get out of here," Justine said. “It’ll show her that not all of her predictions come true.”

Dawn sat there, with her rather muscular arms showing. The tattoo she’d gotten for her birthday last year clearly visible. “Kit’s gonna love this.”

“Now go make a friend,” Justine said.


	7. Chapter 7

 

Faith, Tara, and Willow all moved about the kitchen, listening to Justine as she explained what Cassie had told her. “Kid seriously thinks she’s gonna die on Friday.” She said nursing a soda. “I don’t know why I should give a shit, but it’s got me a little bothered.”

“Mainly because you actually give a shit.” Faith said to her. “Strange feeling, isn’t it?”

“No shit," Justine said, nodding. “I just…I wanna help her, but I have no idea how.”

“I-Is she psychic?” Tara asked.

“She thinks she is," Justine said. “She said something about getting my shirt stained, but I took it off and stuffed it in my bag. Call me paranoid.”

“Sounds like you wanted to make her feel like not everything she said comes true.” Faith said to her, smiling.

Dawn came into the kitchen and bobbed over to the fridge, grabbing a soda.

“So how did your afternoon with Cassie go?” Justine asked her.

“Ugh," Dawn said, sitting down beside her. “She’s kinda depressing. She’s just…so defeated. She doesn’t have the drive to do  _anything_.”

Willow finished chopping the salad for dinner. “Well, I did some checking like you asked. According to her Live Journal account, she posts depressing poetry. Her medical records haven’t turned up anything, but she hasn’t seen a doctor in almost two years. Her dad did raise some red flags, though.”

“Divorced and drunk?” Justine asked. Willow looked at her in shock. “I know the signs.”

“You  _are_  cut out for this, aren’t you?” Tara asked the girl, smiling.

“Got an address?” Justine asked. Willow nodded and jotted it down. “I’m gonna go talk to him about it. If he’s keeping the daddy hand strong, I wanna know about it.” She downed the rest of her soda. “Tell Spike I’ll see him when he gets back.” She said before leaving the house.

“For Cassie’s dad’s sake, I really hope he isn’t smacking the girl around. Justine isn’t gonna be havin’ any of that shit.” Faith said as she continued browning the hamburger for the lasagna they were making.

Justine climbed behind the wheel of her Chevelle and pulled out of the garage. She drove calmly to the address that Willow had provided for her. She came to a stop in front of the house in question and climbed out of the car. She trotted up to the front door and knocked.

A moment later a tall man with a slightly balding head and a rather dour look on his face answered the door. “Mr. Newton?” Justine asked him.

“That’s right.” He returned, giving her a nod.

“My name’s Justine. I work at your daughter’s school. I need to talk to you.”

He stepped aside to let her in. “So, is she screwing up her grades again? Because she’s not the sharpest apple in the barrel.”

Justine fought the urge to tell him that she saw where the girl got it. “She’s got some issues, not gonna argue that. But it’s you that I wanted to talk about.”

“What about?” He asked, crossing his arms.

“I know you’ve been picked up by the cops a few times. I’m just wondering if you still…” She saw the plethora of booze bottles on his counter. “Jesus Christ.” She said, moving over to the collection. It was mostly bottom shelf cheap whiskey. She did stop when she saw a really expensive bottle of Jim Beam Devil’s Cut Bourbon. “Damn.” She said, lifting the bottle and nodding with approval. “This is the good stuff. At least you’re a discriminating drunk.” She set it back down and turned back to him.

“Well thank you for your approval of my choice of alcohol. But what does this have to do with Cassie?” He asked her.

Justine looked at him with a serious stare. “You a violent drunk, Mr. Newton? You ever get ripped and decide to smack your daughter around?”

“Oh, I see. You just come in here in the middle of the night-,”

“Don’t get high and mighty with me, Jack. I know full well what the sauce can do to you. When I lost my twin sister, I climbed so far into a bottle I had blood in my alcohol system. Fact is, being drunk makes you give up control. You got the look of a man that expresses his anger with his fists.” Justine said. “I’m here for your daughter’s well-being. It’s my job to find this kind of shit out.”

“Well, I don’t! Who told you this? Did Cassie’s mother put you up to this, ‘cause I pay my support, OK? To the dime! She just wants to take away the one weekend a month I get to be with my girl.” He was on the verge of tears, now.

Justine could immediately tell that he wouldn’t do a thing to hurt Cassie. “You don’t drink when you have her here, do you?” She asked him. He shook his head. “When is her weekend?”

“I-I just had her last weekend.” He swallowed and stared into Justine’s eyes. “Look, I may not be the greatest dad in the world, but I don’t beat up my daughter.”

Justine shook her head. “No, you don’t.” She said, softly. “You understand, Mr. Newton, I  _had_  to know.”

He nodded. “I do understand. It…it’s nice that there’s someone at that school that’s lookin’ out for my baby.”

Justine smiled at him. “I wanna make sure Cassie gets the best education she can. She deserves it. She’s a sweet girl. Thanks for your time. I’ll get out of your hair.” She moved over and stopped. “Just one more thing. Do you know if Cassie has any kind of medical problems?”

“She has a heart murmur.” He said, off hand.

“What about mental issues?”

“She writes a lot of weird poetry, but as long as she’s writing, she seems happy so I don’t tell her to stop or anything. I don’t understand most of it, but…”

“Has she ever talked to you about seeing things? Like, being able to predict things?”

“You mean like being psychic and stuff?” At Justine’s nod, he nodded as well. “She talked a lot about that when her mother and I were together. My ex-wife said she could do that sometimes. When Cassie was about eight years old, she started doing that, too. I couldn’t handle it and told her to stop it. Now she doesn’t say anything.” He stared at her. “Is that what this is about?”

“I don’t know yet.” Justine sighed heavily. She decided that as her father, the man deserved to know. “Cassie came into my office this afternoon and said that she expects to die on Friday.” Justine shook her head. “I’m not sure if this is a breach of some sort of agreement, but I thought you should know.”

He was flabbergasted by the statement. “She…what?”

“She was pretty adamant about it. I played it up like ‘if you want to, then you will and if you don’t, you won’t’, but I gotta do something. And you deserve to know.”

“Did she tell you anything about how or why?” He asked her, suddenly fearful. “Please, what did she say?”

“Just that she didn’t see the point of still doing her homework. She knew she wouldn’t graduate, that it was all gonna be over on Friday.”

“My God.” He said, nearly falling to the floor. He caught himself and sat down on the sofa. “Is she gonna…hurt herself?”

“I don’t think so," Justine said. “I brought that up and she was all shades of hell no.”

“So…what? She thinks something out there’s gonna kill her?” He asked, emotion causing his voice to crack.

“I’m not sure, Mr. Newton. But I do aim to find out. If there is something stalking your daughter, I’m gonna find out what it is. Meanwhile, you need to help with some prevention. Take her in to get a physical. See if there’s anything wrong medically. That’s the first step. Anything external, well…I can take care of that.”

“I will.” He said, nodding. “Thank you for telling me.”

“If it were my daughter, I would wanna know, too," Justine said. “And for the love of god, stop drinking that horsepiss. Old Crow and Cutty Sark will make you go fucking blind.”

“I actually got those from a friend of mine.” He said, moving over and lifting the bottles. “It’s not bad if you mix it with coke.”

“Stick with the Jim Beam. That’s the good shit.”

He looked at her. “How old are you anyway?” He asked her.

“Old enough to know that I  _am_  a violent drunk. And with a haymaker that can crack brick, that’s a bad way to be.” Justine said, before leaving the house.

She closed the door behind her and made her way to her car. She stopped when she saw Cassie step out of a 1967 Plymouth Barracuda. She was shocked when the girl turned and hit the alarm. “Nice rig," Justine said, smiling. “You got good taste.”

Cassie smiled at her. “Dad bought it for me for my sweet sixteen. We’re working on it together.”

“What have you done so far?” Justine asked.

“Pulled out the 3.7 slant six and put in a 6.3-liter big block," Cassie said, looking at the car. “It pushes almost four hundred horsepower now. We got all the mechanics done. We were just waiting to save up and paint it.”

“What color you goin’ with?” Justine asked.

“Personally, I wanted to paint it the original silver with black livery," Cassie said. She turned to Justine. “It’s not him.” She said, pointing to the house. “He’s not the one who does it. Thank you for trying but I probably shouldn’t have told you anything. You’re making such a big deal out of it, and I want it to all to just go away.”

“Can’t always get what you want," Justine said to her. “But if you try sometimes, you just might find you get what you need.”

“Good song," Cassie said, giving her a soft smile.

“I know you’re not talking about killing yourself," Justine said.

“No, of course not.”

“Then why give up? Why not fight tooth and nail to prevent it?” Justine asked her.

“There’s no point. I told you…”

“You can’t get away with saying shit like that to me," Justine said. “I’ve been on death’s doorstep plenty of times. So have a lot of my friends. We don’t know the meaning of the word quit. And right now you’re not sounding like someone that really wants to live.”

“You think I want this? You think I don’t care?” Cassie began crying. “Believe me, I want to…be here, do things. I want to graduate from high school, and I want to go to the stupid winter formal.” She sniffed. “I have this friend, and it would be fun to go with him. Just to dance and hear lame music to wear a silly dress and laugh and stuff.” She chuckled. “I’d like to go. There’s a lot of stuff I’d like to do. I’d love to ice skate at Rockefeller Center. And I’d love to see my cousins grow up and see how they turn out ‘cause they’re really mean and I think they’re gonna be fat. I’d love to backpack across the country or, I don’t know, fall in love, but I won’t. I just never will.”

“Let me ask you a question," Justine said. “When you told me earlier today to put a sweater on so I didn’t stain my shirt. What did you mean by that?”

“It was pretty straightforward. If you didn’t put something on over it, you would have stained it.” She shook her head. “But you didn’t. And now your shirt has a coffee stain on it.” Cassie said.

Justine smiled. “No, Cassie. It doesn’t.”

The girl looked at her in complete shock. “What do you mean? I saw you in the principal’s office spill coffee on your shirt.”

“And I nearly did," Justine said, still smiling. “But I managed to catch myself before I did. After that, to prove that not everything is written in stone, I took the shirt off and put it in my backpack. I took it out and washed it earlier this evening.” She shook her head. “The future is only as set as you wanna make it. If you don’t want it to happen it won’t. I’ve seen your gift before. I’m telling you, things can change if you want it to.”

Cassie had never, in her entire life, had one of her predictions, small or large, not come true. Not once. But now, here she was, listening to Justine and realizing that the girl had managed to alter the outcome of her premonition. “I…I never knew that…”

Justine shook her head. “You control the outcome. This is  _your_  life, Cassie. Every decision you make alters your future. Don’t let one vision dictate your path. If one of them can change, how many others can?”

For the first time in a long time, she had hope. “I’ll call that friend of yours tonight. Talk to her. Maybe she can help.”

“I also told your father what you told me," Justine said. “He deserved to know.”

She sighed and nodded. “I know. He did.”

“You got a cell?” Cassie nodded. She pulled it out and handed it to Justine. The redhead typed away. “Here’s my number. You need to talk, day or night, call me. I’m a night owl so you don’t have to worry about waking me up.”

Cassie took her phone back. “Thanks for your help. I don’t know if can change what I see but I’m gonna try.”

“So will I. And so will my friends," Justine said, hugging the girl. “Now go in and talk to your dad. He’s a good guy and loves you a lot.”

She smiled and nodded, heading into the house.

Justine sat behind the desk, reading over some of the poetry on Cassie’s Live Journal page. It had been four days since the girl came into her office and revealed her premonition. Since that time, Justine had done everything she could for the girl. “God, this girl is dark.” Suddenly, her phone rang. She snatched up the receiver. “Sunnydale High this is Justine Cooper, how can I help you?”

“Well don’t you sound all official?” Cordy said, smiling. “How do like the new job?”

“Kinda diggin’ on it, to be honest. How you doin’?”

“Pretty good. Connor is crawling and getting into all kinds of trouble.” Cordy said, smiling. “It’s good to see. Yesterday I saw him come zooming out of the office on his hands and knees and Angel was crawling along right behind him. It was the cutest thing.”

Justine actually laughed out loud at that. “Angel was  _crawling_? I would have paid money to see that.”

“I recorded it," Cordy said. “That’s one that’s getting shown to Conner when he’s older. Which reminds me, November 1st is his birthday. You gonna be able to make it?”

“I could request the time off for the party, sure," Justine said.

“Good. Angel is gonna be really happy to hear that. I wanna invite the whole crew down for the day.” Cordy then thought about something. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about the army of cleaners, repairmen and furniture trucks that stormed the place a few days ago, would you?”

Justine smiled. “Why? What happened?”

“About two weeks ago a bunch of cleaning crews came in and went through the place top to bottom. Took almost a week to get all the junk cleared out, but they went at it hard. Then electricians, plumbers, and HVAC guys came in and went over the place with a fine tooth comb, repairing and updating the electric, getting the kitchen up and running and putting in a whole new heating and air conditioning system. Three days ago, we got new furniture for every single room.”

“What did that all run you?” Justine asked.

“Nothing. Not a single penny. When we asked everyone, they said that it had been taken care of.”

“Sounds like you have a mysterious benefactor," Justine said.

“Yeah, I know, right? But the thing is, for the life of us, we can’t figure out who it is. Business isn’t exactly booming, but I know it isn’t that good. We got a statement in the mail that said we had an account set up with Merrill Lynch Wealth Management with two million dollars in it.”

“Bet that made your day.” Justine offered. “But I got no clue what you’re talking about.” In truth, she knew exactly what had happened. Faith had taken to setting it all up after they got back from Los Angeles after the catastrophe with Warren and his femmebot brigade. It took months to get everything coordinated, but from what Cordelia said and how she sounded, she enjoyed it. “Did Cassie call you, by any chance?”

“Yeah. That’s actually what I wanted to call you about.” Cordelia offered, her tone shifting to ‘business girl Cordy’ as Justine liked to call her when she was on her game. “She’s a precog. Her visions are actually a little different.”

“How so?” Justine asked her.

“Well…” Cordy sighed. “It’s actually really hard to explain to someone that doesn’t have visions. With mine…it’s like watching a preview of a movie or TV show. I get the highlights, but not all the details. Just enough to know what  _might_  be going on. Not a play by play with commentary. Cassie’s visions are like she’s already seen the movie. But for some reason, she doesn’t retain it all. She just knows the ending. She would know Bruce Willis was dead, but she wouldn’t know the details. Does that make any sense?”

“She sees the ending, but not the story leading up to it? Where you get to see the preview, but, like her, you don’t get the full story?”

“In a nutshell," Cordy said. “Wow. That wasn’t as hard to explain as I thought.”

“The question becomes can she change it?” Justine asked. “I mean, she made a prediction that I would stain my shirt and it didn’t happen.”

“Well, of course, she can change it," Cordy said. “If I’ve learned anything it’s that time is fluid. What happens now affects then. If Cassie doesn’t wanna die, she won’t. She’s just gotta be careful what she does. Because of the fact that she doesn’t know the events leading up to her death, some of the things she does might actually  _be_  what causes her to die.”

“Sounds like typical time traveler bullshit," Justine said.

“Pretty much. I told her that she has the power to change what she sees. That she was given the gift of visions for a reason. She just hasn’t had anyone teach her how to use it, yet.”

“Yeah, her dad and I had a talk. He said that he wasn’t very supportive about it.”

“She said the same thing. After you left her house, she and her dad had a long talk. He wanted to get her all the help he could.”

“Did she ever get the physical I told her to get?” Justine asked.

“She’s coming to see you today," Cordy said. “I’ll let her tell you.”

“Fair enough," Justine said to her. “Thanks for talking to her.”

“She said that if she survives the day, she wants to come down over Christmas break with her dad to learn how to use her gifts to help people, just like you do," Cordy said. “Seems like you made a friend.”

“Good," Justine said. “I just…I know how this girl feels. When Julia died, I felt so damn helpless it was unreal. I hated that feeling. That’s why I just, I had to do something for her, you know? I couldn’t just let her flounder. I mean, I wanted to, but…” She looked up as she saw Cassie coming into her office. “I gotta go. She’s coming in.”

“Alright. You did a good thing for this girl.” Cordy said. “I’ll talk to you later.” She ended the call.

Justine set the phone down. “Morning.” She said, smiling.

Cassie was grinning happily. “Sorry I haven’t been in to see you.” She said, taking a seat. “I’ve been in the hospital.”

“You got that physical?” Justine asked.

Cassie nodded. “The doctors don’t know how anyone missed it. I have congenital heart disease. They said that I was on borrowed time as it was. If I hadn’t gone in when I did…” She looked at Justine with a look almost approaching worship. “I would have been dead in days.”

The redhead nodded but kept her tone from becoming too excited. “It’s still Friday. You gotta make it till midnight.”

“I know," Cassie said. “Dawn has…she’s been a good friend. She even came to the hospital to see me with her girlfriend. Kit’s really nice. Thank you for sending her to talk to me.” She bit her lip. “She asked if I would want to stay the night at your house. Tomorrow we’re going to the movies and going shopping. I told Michael that I’d go with him to the dance.”

“Oh, making plans for tomorrow?” Justine asked. “Is that hope I hear?” Cassie grinned and nodded. “Wasn’t hearing a lot of that a week ago.”

“Thanks to you," Cassie said. “Things are…they’re different now. With what Cordelia said to me, it made me realize a lot of things. I’ve always been afraid of what I saw. I didn’t really know what to make of it. I just thought it made me strange, but with what she said, it made me feel a lot better.”

“Glad to see you happy," Justine said. “But just so you know, our group is kind of… strange.”

“I know," Cassie said. “Dawn’s sister is a robot and your boyfriend is a vampire, but a good one.”

“Vision?” Justine asked.

“No. Dawn explained it all so I wouldn’t get freaked out," Cassie said. “Given that I can see the future – sorry,  _possible_  future – I couldn’t really throw stones.”

“Glad to hear that," Justine said. “You coming over right after school?”

Cassie shook her head. “No. I have to go home and get my overnight bag. I should be there by seven.”

“Fair enough. Check in with us every hour after school.” Justine said. “We think we may have the problem beat, but best not to take chances.”

Cassie nodded. “I will.” She said, gathering her backpack and standing up. “Thanks for all of your help.”

“Just make it through today," Justine said.

Cassie gave her a bright smile before leaving the office. Justine sat back and sighed heavily. She was just relaxing when Principal Wood came in. “You really are going the extra mile for her, aren’t you?”

“She deserves it. She’s a special girl and needs to know that life isn’t as hopeless as she thinks it is.”

“Well, you’re doing a wonderful job with her. Suggesting the physical was a great idea. With what the doctors found…”

“I just started ruling things out," Justine said. “Medical, psychological…the rest is just prevention and careful planning.”

“You sound like the voice of experience.” He said, sitting on the edge of her desk.

“I had my bout with the bottle and depression. What I needed more than anything was a friend. Once I had that, the rest fell into place. Now I’m sober, have a very rewarding job and a man that loves me to death.”

He smiled at her. “I hear you. It’s been a hell of a week. Thank god it’s Friday.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I just said that.” He rose to his feet. “I’ll see you later.”

Justine watched him go and went back to work.

 

Tara was in the kitchen working on the roasted chicken that she planned on making for dinner. She’d prepared a mixed green salad and had potatoes boiling. She turned when she saw Justine come in from the garage. “Hey.” She said, smiling.

“Hey, Tara," Justine said, looking around. She’d stopped at the store after finishing her paperwork. It was almost six thirty. Cassie hadn’t called her since ten after five. “Where is everyone?”

“Willow and Faith are helping out with a last minute shipment at the Magic Box. Dawn, Buffy and Daniel are all at work.” Tara said. “Spike said he was going out to collect a debt.”

“Some demon down at Willy’s owes him money. Spike said he was gonna rattle the guy’s chain if he didn’t pay up today. Any phone calls?” Justine asked.

Tara shook her head. “No. Were you expecting a call?”

“Yeah. I was.” Justine said. “Cassie was supposed to check in every hour after school.” She pulled her cell phone out.

“You gonna call her?” Tara asked.

Justine shook her head. “Nope. Because if she’s in trouble, I don’t want anyone knowing she has a cell on her.” She activated her GPS app and put in Cassie’s phone number. “When she called me last, she was at her mom’s house picking up her overnight bag.”

“What are you doing?”

“GPS. Apparently, she’s back at the school library.” Justine said, looking at Tara.

Tara quickly covered the chickens with aluminum foil and put them in the fridge. She turned the stove off, washed her hands, pulled the apron off and gathered her jacket. “Let’s go.”

The pair slid into Justine’s Chevelle and took off toward the high school at speed. Justine was pissed as hell. She prayed that Cassie was just picking up a few books to study over the weekend, but her instincts told her differently. The girl was in trouble and Justine knew it.

They arrived at the school minutes later. After dark, the place was eerily quiet. The halls were filled with a deafening silence. Justine crept slowly to the library. She was amazed at how quiet Tara actually was. She smiled as they approached the door. Justine looked in through the small round window and saw seven figures in red cloaks carrying candles. “David?” She asked. She peered further back and saw Cassie, blindfolded, with her hands bound behind her back and a piece of duct tape across her mouth. “Son of a…” She threw the door open and stormed into the room. “David, you motherfucker.” She said, stalking toward him. Tara immediately slipped in and circled around to Cassie.

“My name is Peter.” He snapped back. “How did you get in here?” He looked to one of the other boys. “Keith, you were supposed to take care of the fire exits.”

“I did. They’re trapped.”

“I have a key, you moron," Justine said, moving stand in front of Peter. “I’m a staff member, remember?” She looked around. “What in the hell are you doing?”

“We’re gonna be rich.” One of the boys said, happily.

“They’re taking our sacrifice dude!” Another boy shouted. He rose to his feet and lunged for Tara as she knelt to untie Cassie. The boy never got close. Tara thrust her hand toward him quickly. He was lifted from his feet and hurled across the library to slam into a bookshelf. The wood blasted apart as he went through it. He was buried by a mountain of books. He didn’t try to get back up.

“Go. Take her with you.” Justine said, never taking her eyes off Peter. “I got this.”

Peter quickly reached for her, trying to choke her out. Justine punched him in the throat. He gurgled, gripped his neck, and fell to the floor, gagging. She turned and looked at the rest of the boys. One of them had picked up the meat cleaver that was on the floor and rushed her with it. She stepped forward and kicked him directly in the junk. He staggered and dropped the cleaver in favor of grabbing his crushed genitals. She pushed him aside and moved on. The remaining four of them all came at her at once.

Only half of them made it. Two of them were lifted from the floor and hurled across the room to hit the ground hard. “That’s my girl you’re messin’ with, mate," Spike said, turning toward them. “And I’m the jealous type.”

Justine smiled. She went at the last two boys hard and fast. A boot to the gut stopped one boy in his tracks. She backhanded him to the ground and shot across with the same right taking another boy in the jaw. He fell to the floor limp.

Spike moved toward the two boys, grinning madly. He went game face and growled. “Couple of fresh-faced boys like you would go down real good right about now.” He licked his chops like a hungry wolf. “What do you say? Can I have a bite?” They both screamed and ran off, terror-stricken. “That’s right. You better run.” He turned back to Justine. He pulled her in and kissed her passionately. “You should have called.”

“Knew you wouldn’t wanna be disturbed. You take your debts very seriously.” Justine said, happily.

Tara and Cassie emerged from the darkness. Tara looked around and sighed. “The police should be here any minute.”

“Too bad two of them got away," Spike said. “But they’ll know better than to summon a demon.”

“Oh, they didn’t get away," Tara said, smiling. She turned and reached out as if she was grabbing something and pulling it. The pair of boys slid toward them, the rope they used to bind Cassie was wrapped around their ankles. She then moved her hands through a complicated routine. The cloaks whipped off the boys and took on a life of their own as they bound the group together in the middle of the floor. “Wouldn’t want you boys going anywhere, now.”

“Who were they trying to summon, anyway?” Justine asked. Cassie and Tara both shrugged.

“Avilas from the looks of it," Spike said, looking around. “Truthfully, these wankers don’t know how lucky they are. Even if they did take her out as a sacrifice, Avilas would’ve slaughtered them all out of sheer grouchiness.” He looked at the girls. “I’ve met him. He’s not a happy demon. Tends to like to eat the people that summon him because he thinks the looks on their faces is funny.”

After another few minutes, the police showed up and arrested the seven boys. Cassie pressed charges. She gave her statement and they were allowed to go.

As they were walking out of the school, Cassie clutched her chest and dropped to the floor.

“What the hell?” Justine said as she knelt beside the girl.

Spike rested a hand on her chest. “Her heart rate is too high. She’s dying.”

Tara shook her head and got to her knees. “Not today, she’s not.” She quickly closed her eyes and brought her magic to the forefront. It took everything she had to coax the girl’s heart to slow. Cassie’s heart rate came back down, gradually. Spike lifted her from the ground and carried her to the car, resting her in the passenger seat.

Cassie awoke in the hospital. Her father and mother were staring at her, leaning over her bed. Each was on the opposite side from the other. “You had us worried, baby.” He said, smiling at her.

“I don’t want you to worry, dad.” She said, squeezing his hand. “This isn’t your fault.”

“Your father said you saw…” Her mother bit her lip, trying not to burst into tears.

“I know my friends were just trying to help, but there’s nothing…” Cassie began.

Justine cut her off. “How’s it feel to be wrong, slugger?” She asked as she stepped up beside Cassie’s father. “It’s three in the morning.” She grinned. “ _Saturday_  morning. Doc says you just had a bit of a heart flutter. As long as you take your meds, eat something other than Cheetos, Taco Bell, and KFC and drink something besides Red Bull and Coke, you should be fine.”

Cassie looked at her with a surprised look on her face. “It’s…Saturday?”

“That’s right, baby.” Cassie’s mother said, leaning down and kissing her on the forehead. “Your father told me what you said to him. I’m sorry, baby. I should have explained.”

Mr. Newton looked at his wife. “And I should have listened.”

“And  _I_  should get out of here so you guys can have some private time," Justine said. “Call me later, okay, kiddo?” She asked Cassie.

The girl nodded. “I will.”

“Spend the day with your family," Justine said. “Let your mom and dad take you to buy that silly dress so you can go to the dance and listen to lame music.”

“Thank you," Cassie said. “For all your help.”

“Yes, thank you.” Her mother offered, hugging the redhead girl. Mr. Newton did likewise.

“It’s good that she’s got someone like you looking out of her.”

“Part of the job, Mr. Newton," Justine said. “And god help me, I do love it so.” She added quietly as she left the room.


	8. Chapter 8

 

Faith sat at the stoplight tapping away on her steering wheel, waiting patiently for the light to change. She cast her eyes to the left and saw the beautiful sunset. She sighed and stared a moment. She looked back at the light to see it flip to green. She fed gas to the car and eased forward. She checked her rearview mirror and saw Xander behind her. She gave him a wave. He returned it before turning off and heading to his condo and his waiting wife.

She was genuinely happy for the pair of them. From the moment Xander proposed to the second they were married, he’d been nervous. The minute he married Anya, he knew. Hell, they all knew that the pair were made for each other. Since then, Xander hadn’t spoken one word of complaint. He was a man in love and wouldn’t trade his life for the world.

Faith could relate. Tara and Willow both had found their way into her heart. A lot of people would be quick to state that their relationship was impossible. That all three of them were just fooling themselves out of fear of hurting one another. Faith couldn’t say with absolute certainty that Tara and Willow felt the way she did. But her own mind was clear on the matter. Both women filled different parts of her with a warm white light. They were her world and she wouldn’t change that for anything.

She’d just finished a punishing day at the construction site and was a little tired. She pulled to the side of the road and stopped. She then pulled out her cell phone and dialed home.

“Hello?” Willow answered.

“Hey, Red,” Faith said, smiling. “Love you, ya know.”

“I love you, too Faith. What’s up?” She asked.

“I gotta have a reason to call and talk to one of the three best things to ever happen to me?” Faith asked her.

“Well, no. I mean I like hearing your voice. It’s all…sexy-full. But you’ve never just called and said that without a reason.” Willow said. “But I’m glad you did.”

“What were you and T-bear planning on making for dinner?”

“Tara wasn’t sure. We forgot to pull something out of the freezer.”

“What about I pick something up? I’m out and could grab something from the Chinese place near the college. I know you two used to dig on that.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful," Willow said as she moved into the kitchen. “Faith wants to pick up Chinese for dinner,” she said to the gathered crowd. Justine, Spike, and Tara all looked at her, nodding happily.

“Make sure you get a lot," Willow said. “You know what we like.”

“Yeah, I do,” Faith said. “I’ll be home shortly, babe,” she said, before ending the call. She dropped her phone onto the seat beside her and pulled away from the curb. She made her way to the restaurant in question. It was a small hole in the wall Chinese eatery that had been a favorite of hers since her first days in Sunnydale years ago. Whenever she ‘found’ a bit of spare cash, she’d stop in and pick something up. She came to a stop and looked at the sign. _Singh’s_  the place was called. She went inside and smiled at the smell of delicious cooking food. “God, I love this place,” she said, happily.

Veronica Singh, the current owner and operator stepped out of the back as she heard the bell above the door jingle. She grinned widely at the girl as she entered. “Nin hao, Faith.” The woman said.

“Nin hao, Veronica.” Faith returned. Every day she came in, she received the same greeting. She really liked Veronica. Despite have a purely white bread name, the woman was actually born and raised in a small town outside Shanghai. She spoke English well enough, but it was obvious that she didn’t spend a lot of time in the states. But that didn’t stop her from being just about one of the nicest people Faith had ever met. When she was working for the mayor, she’d come in to get some dinner and found a vampire – one of the mayor’s boys – getting ready to drain the poor woman dry. He’d already killed Veronica’s father. Faith did what came natural and took his ass out. She and Veronica had been friends ever since. “Gotta big order for you.”

“With you, always big order.” The thirty-something woman said, chuckling. “You strong working girl. You need lots of food.”

“Ordering for the family tonight,” Faith said, pulling her wallet out.

“I give you big container.” The woman said, pulling out the large white tubs. She didn’t bat an eyelash as Faith pretty much cleared her out. She made certain to get spicy chicken for Spike and Justine, zucchini chicken for Willow and the stir-fry vegetables for Tara. She also ordered a large helping of pepper steak, Kung Pao chicken and Teriyaki chicken for when Dawn got home. The girl was already tired of Double Meat Palace food.

Faith loved the stuff, but could also understand where Dawn was coming from. She added several dozen egg rolls, pot stickers, and spring rolls to the order. Veronica informed her that she had to make more of each. “No problem,” Faith said, pulling several two-liters of soda out of the woman’s cooler to add to the order. She paid, not batting an eyelash as the order came to nearly two hundred dollars. Given that Faith was rich, thanks to her late Watcher’s estate, she could afford it. She handed three hundred dollar bills to the woman. “Keep the change.”

Veronica looked at the money and back to Faith. “You give me too much,” she said, looking to hand the third hundred back.

“No. Keep it.” Faith grinned at her. “For the smile.” The woman had the kind of smile that could light up a room. And she now turned the full force of it onto Faith. She bowed to her happily and put one of the bills into the register and the other into her pocket.

Faith cracked open the bottle of coke as she moved over to the window and waited. Veronica rushed into the back and began preparing the rolls and pot stickers that Faith had asked for.

She watched the city at night. There was a marked difference since she’d gotten here four years ago. She found it much like herself. Sunnydale and she, strangely, had a like history. The town was situated on a Hellmouth. Unfortunate events were its day to day. Faith, when she first arrived, could say the same. Bad things just seemed to flow toward her. A lot of time and trouble was put into bringing her back from the darkness. The same could be said for the town. People walked about in the dark, smiling, laughing and enjoying the warm California Autumn. Yes, there were predators out there. She knew it and, if you looked closely at the cheerful couples, the strolling pedestrians, you could tell that they knew it too. The way they flicked their eyes to the darkened corners of the street. The way they quickened their pace just a little from streetlight to streetlight.

She couldn’t help but smile. Yes, the nervousness and caution were there, but so were the people. Something, if her read in the landscape was true, wasn’t a common site a decade ago.

She watched a young couple, both really no older than she was moving along down the street. They both had that kind of happy that would either grow into a storybook romance or burn with a fiery passion before dying to nothing a few months down the road. At such an early stage, it was never clear and never obvious which way the winds would blow. But of the pair, she did know this; they were in dire,  _dire_  straits. And the danger wasn’t so far away from them. She sighed and shook her head. “God that was bad,” she said to herself.

Two men, both of the undead persuasion if the hair standing up on the back of Faith’s neck was anything to go by were stalking them from about fifty feet back. The couple had no idea that death was closing in on them. She put the cap back on her bottle and set it on the counter. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, Veronica.” Faith shouted at the woman.

“I keep hot for you.” Came a reply from the kitchen.

Faith left the restaurant and trotted across the street, tucking in behind the pair of vampires. She pulled her stake from the back of her pants and spun it in her hand. She moved quickly and quietly, slipping easily into the role she was born to play. She closed the distance and with a lightning-fast strike, drove the stake into the vampire on the left’s back. The wood slid into his heart, stopping him in his tracks. The motion was so smooth and silent that the vampire beside him hadn’t even noticed.

Faith fell in step beside him. “Nice night,” she said, smiling. “Tasty looking pair, huh?” She asked him.

He started as he looked down at her. “Where the hell did you come from?” He asked. “Where’s Tony?”

“He had to go. He was just… _dying_  to get away for a while.” She rammed the stake home in the blink of an eye. “Tell him I said hi.” She offered before the vampire drifted away on the night breeze.

The couple turned to look at her. She waved and smiled. “I like your shoes,” she said to the woman.

The pretty brunette looked down at her strappy stiletto heels and returned Faith’s grin. “Thanks,” she said, in a youthful bubbly voice. The pair were then on their way.

The slayer returned to the restaurant to see Veronica placing the massive pile of take-out containers into plastic bags. She reached over and lifted a large piping hot steamed bun and handed it to Faith. “Here. You eat now. I know how you get after killing vampire.”

Faith chuckled and took the bun. “Xiexie,” she said, taking a bite. “This is really good.”

“I see you go and follow those men. I know why. You do for that man and woman what you do for me,” she said, with an appreciative smile. “You get yummy steam bun.”

Faith pounded it down and took a drink of her soda. “Delicious,” she said, belching out loudly. Veronica giggled as she went back to packing Faith’s meal.

“You come again, yes?” She asked as she had every single time Faith left with her order.

“Of course,” Faith said, again, as  _she_  had every time before.

It actually took a couple of trips to make it to the car. Having dusted two vamps in record time and a minimum of fuss, she headed home, looking to spend some quality time with her lady loves.

Everyone pitched in to help carry everything to the house. They set up at the dining room table and sat about enjoying a family meal. She sat and stayed quiet, just watching those gathered around her. Yes, a few faces were missing – Dawn, Buffybot, and Daniel – but by and large, this was her family. She said the word inwardly to herself.  _Family_. “I was thinking…” Faith finally said. “Maybe this Saturday, if everyone doesn’t have plans, that we should have a barbecue here. The family. Everyone. Us, Xander and Anya, Tweed and Liv, invite Kit over.” She looked at everyone. “What do you guys say?” She looked at Spike. “We could see about getting one of those awning things for the outside of the house so you can hang out there with us.”

He stared at her and smiled widely. “I’d like that.”

Tara and Willow both nodded. “That sounds like a w-wonderful idea.” Tara leaned over and kissed Faith lightly. A brushing of lips to let the girl know how thoughtful she was being.

The evening wound down as the five friends just spoke of inconsequential things. Justine was settling into her job at the high school. Spike wholeheartedly supported her.

Faith was glad to see everyone so happy. She helped Tara put the leftovers away as Willow rinsed the dishes and put them into the dishwasher. The trio retreated to their bedroom. Tara and Willow both stripped Faith down and lay her on her stomach, lavishing the girl with attention in the form of a wonderful deep tissue massage. Tara began working her shoulders as Willow tended the slayer’s feet. They each worked their way toward her center. And once there, Faith would be the luckiest woman on earth as far as she was concerned.

 

“How do you know she’ll be here?” Tammy asked from the darkness of the alleyway. The air was chilly and sent a bit of a shiver down her spine. The Chicago sky was crystal clear and a few stars twinkled overhead.

“Patterns," Macy said, leaning against the wall. “For the past three days, this is the way she walks home from her job at the mini-mart.”

“And we’re sure that these guys are after her?” Tammy asked her.

Macy shrugged. “Don’t really know if they’ve made a try for her yet.” She wiped her forehead and her eyes. They burned from lack of sleep. “I’m tired of being too late.”

“Indianapolis wasn’t your fault," Tammy said. “You did everything you could.”

“So you keep saying," Macy said.

“Well, it’s true," Tammy said. “At least you got Chloe’s mom to believe us.”

“Kinda hard to argue with the six-foot tall man with no eyes and an axe coming through your front window," Macy said. “At least they’re on their way.”

“I think I hear something," Tammy said.

Macy peeked around the edge of the building…to see a teenage girl in a gas station attendant’s uniform running for her life. Behind her were three black-cloaked figures. “Showtime,” she said, sprinting out of the alleyway, pulling the baseball bat from the makeshift sheath on her back. She had to remember to thank Tammy for its construction. The girl could work wonders with needles, thread and duct tape. “I’m gonna draw their fire. Get Gwen to the RV and lock the doors.”

Tammy nodded, knowing she really wouldn’t be any good in a fight with the knife-wielding fanatics.

Gwen, for her part, ran as fast as she could. She had no idea where the hell the men had come from. She was further panicked when she saw the enraged muscular redhead girl dart out from the alleyway brandishing what looked like a baseball bat wrapped in grungy duct tape. “Oh, God,” she said veering away from the girl.

Macy raced past the potential and engaged the three men brutally. Gwen stood transfixed as the burly redhead went full force at the three men.

Macy trusted Tammy to get Gwen to safety and concentrated on the men before her. She slammed her bat into the gut of the first assassin, doubling him over. She spun cracking another across the teeth, spinning him to the ground. She rotated again and bashed the bent attacker in the back of the head, driving him into the pavement. He didn’t rise again.

The third cloaked figure pulled two knives from his robes and worked them in tandem with expert precision. Macy kept the bat moving, parrying blows with practiced skill. The blades cracked into the taped wood with hard  _chock_  sounds.

Macy gave a bit of ground, trying to keep the fight moving. She lashed out with a kick and landed it hard not the man’s right thigh, staggering him forward, but took a slash across the front of her leg in return. She stepped away from him, hissing in pain.

The man quickly rose to his feet. Macy was there to meet him. She swung the bat toward his head. He crossed his blades and caught it. The knives sliced into the wood and were lodged. Macy quickly released a hand as the man tried to pull his blades free. She drew one of the daggers she’d gotten from a previous assassin and buried it into his gut. She then ripped the blade sideways, spilling gore and viscera all over the concrete. The man flopped to the ground, dead.

She stumbled away and turned her attention to the final cloaked figure. He was getting to his hands and knees, spitting blood and teeth onto the ground. She dropped the bat, straddled his back and wrapped her hand around his chin, slicing across his throat with the knife. The strength of her cut dragged the blade across his vertebrae it was so deep. She left him bleeding out on the ground and grabbed her bat and the killers’ blades, limping back to the RV. She was exhausted and desperately needed to sit down.

Tammy shoved Gwen into the motorhome and set her down on the bench seat. “Are you okay?” The blonde asked.

Gwen looked up at her with fear in her eyes. “Who were those guys?” She asked as she fought back the tears. “What were they after me for?”

“Have you been having…strange dreams the past few days?” Tammy asked as she pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge to hand to the girl.

Gwen sniffed, wiped her eyes and nodded. She was startled when the thick redhead limped into the RV and dropped onto the seat across from her. “Thank you for what you did for me.”

“I’m Tammy.” The blonde said. “This is Macy. We’re just like you. We’ve been having the dreams too.”

“From beneath you, it devours," Gwen said. “I remember hearing those words.”

“Oh my God," Tammy said, seeing Macy’s leg. She got under the sink and pulled out the large first aid kit. “We need to get you into the bed.” Tammy looked at Gwen. “Can you drive?” The girl nodded. “Good. Get behind the wheel.”

“Where are we going?”

Tammy helped Macy to her feet and into the back of the RV. “Where are we going?”

“Roundup, Montana," Macy said. “Valerie Coe. She’s another potential.”

“I’ve gotta go home," Gwen said.

“You can’t," Macy said. “Probably never be able to again.”

Gwen swallowed hard, suddenly fearful. “Why not?”

“Because they’re just going to keep coming after you," Macy said as she flopped down on the bed. She slid up and lay flat with her hands under her head. Tammy helped the girl unbutton her pants and slid them down her long, well-toned legs.

“Why do they wanna kill me?” Gwen asked, wrapping her arms about herself. “What did I do?”

“It isn’t what you did. It’s who you are,” Macy said. “Christ, this hurts.”

Tammy began cleaning the wound. “Has anyone come to you at all talking about vampires and monsters?”

Gwen nodded. “About a year ago. A man came to my house when I was still living with my sister. He started going on about that stuff. I got scared and told him to leave. When he didn’t, I called the police and had him arrested because he kept showing up at our house. I haven’t seen him since.”

Macy chuckled. “Christ. You had your Watcher arrested. That’s actually kind of funny.”

“I didn’t know who he was, just that he was creepy.” She swallowed hard. “He was telling the truth, wasn’t he?”

“Unfortunately," Macy said to her. “Those bastards came after me and Tammy here, too. I got three. They took out Alison, my Watcher and two of them nearly got Tammy.

The girl nodded as she took the vicryl and went to work stitching the wound closed. “This should be seen by a doctor.” Tammy offered. “I think you’re gonna have muscle damage. Definitely be a scar.”

“What’s one more?” Macy said. She looked at Gwen who was watching her get stitched up and that she wasn’t responding to the pain in any appreciable way. “We gotta get moving. There’s other girls out there like us that are gonna need help.”

Suddenly Macy’s cell phone rang. Tammy grabbed it from the nightstand and handed it to the girl.

Macy put it on speaker, not recognizing the number. “Who is this?”

“Macy Maxwell?” A cultured British voice asked.

“That really depends on who you are, now don’t it?” She asked.

“My name is Quentin Travers,” he said. Macy and Tammy both knew the name. “I’m the Director of Operations for the Watcher’s Council.” He paused a moment. “How are you doing, my dear?”

Macy was quiet for a long time. “Alison’s dead.”

“Yes, I know. We had an agent inspect the home the two of you shared. She was…she was very fond of you,” Quentin said. “I’m sorry. She was a good woman. A very gifted Watcher.”

“Any idea what’s happening? Why potentials are being taken out left and right?” Macy asked.

“Unfortunately, no,” he said, sadly. “But we are looking into it. We’ve managed to save a few.”

“I’ve got three so far. Tamara Watkins, Chloe Hoffman, and Gwendolyn Paige. Chloe is on the way to Sunnydale with her mom. I’m,” She looked at Tammy and Gwen. “ _We’re_  trying to save as many as we can on our way to California.”

“Let me guess. Dreams of the Hellmouth?” Quentin asked.

“Not really sure what it is but I do know that that’s where my dreams have been telling me to go. So that’s where I’m headed.”

“Where are you heading to next on your crusade to save the potentials?”

“Montana. Valerie Coe.” Macy said. She heard Quentin chuckle. “Care to let me in on the joke?”

“Let us just say that Valerie Coe is…not like the potentials that these eyeless assassins have dealt with before.”

“What makes you say that?” Macy asked him.

“I’ll not spoil the surprise for you," Quentin said. “Do you have access to Alison’s account, by any chance?”

“Just the account she set up for me," Macy said. “I’ve been pretty much living off of it. I’ve got about three hundred bucks left in it.”

“I’m going to transfer was remains of Alison’s primary account into yours. Since you’re doing such fine work, you should be free to not worry about your finances.”

Macy was quiet for a time. “Thank you,” she said, softly. “Did you…did Alison get a proper burial?”

“She did," Quentin said. “When this is over, we’ll see about getting you to England to see her marker.”

“That would mean a lot to me," Macy said. “I’ll save as many as I can.”

“I know you will, dear,” he said. “Good luck. Keep in touch.”

She ended the call and laid back on the bed. “Didn’t expect that.”

“Does this motorhome have Sat Nav?” Gwen asked. At Macy’s nod, she turned and climbed behind the wheel. After making a pit stop to pick up clothes, toiletries, and her photo albums, Gwen was driving west toward Montana.

Tammy made sure that Macy took some of the pain pills she had on hand and tucked her into bed. She then sat in the passenger seat of the RV as Gwen, now dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, drove along. “She’s sleeping,” she said, off hand.

“She saved my life tonight," Gwen said, her voice soft.

“She saved mine, too," Tammy said, looking back as Macy slept fitfully. “I’m not sure what prompted her to do it. I’m not sure I would have been strong enough.”

“Does she really intend to go to every potential in the country?”

“I’ve known her for a week," Tammy said. “And knowing her as I do, I wouldn’t doubt it for a minute.”

“What’s in Sunnydale?” Gwen asked.

“I’m not sure. I don’t think Macy is either. But that’s where the dreams are leading us.” Tammy looked at Gwen. “Aren’t yours?”

“I never listen to my dreams.” The girl returned. “Too frightening.”

“How long have you been having scary dreams?” Tammy asked.

“If what the so-called psychic my sister took me to a couple years ago believes…for almost a thousand years.”

“She thinks you’ve been reincarnated?” Tammy asked.

“So she says," Gwen said. “I try not to think about it too much.”

“You don’t really believe in the whole paranormal thing, do you?”

Gwen actually chuckled. “Obviously not as much as I should.”

Tammy gave her a nod and settled back. She turned to look at Macy as she began shifting in her sleep. “I think of all us, her nightmares are the worst.”

“What do you know about her?” Gwen asked, keeping her voice low.

“Enough to know that without her, we’d both be dead," Tammy said, an edge to her voice. “And I’ll never be able to repay her for it.” She shook her head. “I thought people like her were a myth.”

“What do you mean people like her?” Gwen asked.

Tammy looked at her, her expression a mix of sadness and anger. “The kind of people that actually give a shit about others.”

Gwen gave a glance back at the girl. She had to agree with Tammy. Good people were incredibly difficult to find these days.


	9. Chapter 9

Tara looked down at the list and to the grocery cart, looking over what they needed, versus what they had. Twelve people – well thirteen in attendance, but Buffybot didn’t eat, necessarily – would be attending the barbecue tomorrow and they needed to make sure to have enough food for everyone. Faith had wisely suggested Costco for their needs. They were going for the standard menu of steaks, potato salad, a fresh garden salad and a simple strawberry shortcake for dessert.

She looked up as Faith carried an armload of meat. “I got us twenty-four New York strips. The butcher wasn’t happy that I damn near cleaned him out, but they’re all ten to twelve ounce. Should be plenty for everybody,” Faith said, smiling.

Tara giggled. “That’s perfect.” She said, marking the meat off the list. “Did you wanna pick anything up for a spice rub or are we going to use barbecue sauce?”

“Do you remember the rub I made when we had the boys over after they fixed the house the first time?” Faith asked.

“That was really good. Are you gonna go with that?” Tara asked her.

“I was thinking about it. Everyone seemed to like it. It’s really simple, too. Brown sugar, kosher salt, chili powder, black pepper, cayenne, thyme and onion powder,” Faith said. “Is there any of that we don’t have?”

“I’m sure we have it, but we might need to pick up some more if we’re going to be cooking that many steaks.”

Faith nodded. “Then we need the spice aisle. Did the awning guy ever show up?” She asked as they walked.

“He got there about an hour ago. It’s gonna take a couple hours to install it. Willow is there making sure it’s where we want it.”

“Cool,” Faith said as the rounded the corner to get the spices needed for the rub. She casually looked forward, making certain that they didn’t bump into anyone. Tara was again looking at the list, no doubt calculating costs – as if they had to worry about that anymore – and wasn’t necessarily paying attention. Faith had a hold of the side of the cart. She stopped as she saw… “No way.” She said, as the tall chestnut haired woman turned and looked at her. She had a sad, disappointed look in her eyes. She turned away and stepped around the corner. Faith let go of the cart and moved past Tara and over to the aisle that the woman and gone to. But she was nowhere to be found. Faith stood there, staring in bewilderment.

Tara came up beside her pushing the cart. “Faith? What’s wrong?”

“You’re gonna think I’m crazy.” The slayer said, turning to look at Tara. “But I think I saw Mrs. S.”

“Joyce?” Tara asked, looking down to the end of the aisle. “Are you sure?”

“No, I’m not. I mean it looked like her. She was in that lane…” She pointed. “Then she went around that corner down there, but when I got over here, she was gone.” Faith shook her head. “Doesn’t make sense. I mean, it could have been someone else. I ain’t seen Joyce in like, two years so who really knows, right?”

“That doesn’t explain how she just disappeared," Tara said. She trusted implicitly Faith’s observational skills. “Answer me honestly. Do you believe that you saw you saw Buffy’s mom?”

Faith looked at her and nodded. “I don’t know. I mean…yeah, I guess. She looked right at me, T-bear. Into my eyes. She looked…she looked sad.” She swallowed. “Like she was, I don’t know…” Faith lowered her eyes.

“What, Faith?” Tara was under the conviction if she believed she saw Joyce, then Faith saw Joyce. Stranger things than ghosts could be seen on the Hellmouth.

“She looked disappointed with me,” Faith said, softly. “The way people used to look at me back in the day.”

“Then it wasn’t Joyce," Tara said, simply. “Because there is no way in  _hell_  that Joyce would be disappointed in you.” She hugged her girlfriend warmly. “No possible way.”

Faith nodded and gave Tara a weak, but sincere smile. “Thanks, T-bear.”

“Come on. Let’s get this done so we can get home to our loving family.” Tara said, taking Faith’s hand.

It stuck in the back of Faith’s mind, but she let it go. It had to be her mind playing tricks on her. It just had to be. At least that’s what she told herself with a confidence she sure as hell didn’t feel.

 

Giles stood in the training room at the back of The Magic Box looking at the large map of the world and all of the blue and red pins that he’d placed. He wiped his head and sighed. He was somewhat glad that there were more blue than red, but the margin wasn’t as wide as he would have liked.

Anya came in, carrying two cups of tea. She handed one of them to him. He smiled at her. “Thank you.” He said, taking a sip.

“So what is this?” She asked. “You’ve been working on it all day.”

“I was going to wait to explain what’s been happening, but I suppose I can tell you.” He moved closer. “Someone or something is out there, killing potential slayers.”

“That’s weird. What would someone wanna do that for?” She asked. “It’s not like they’re super hardcore or anything. I figured they’d wanna take out the slayer.”

“”

“That makes sense," Anya said, shrugging. “What are the blue and red pins for?”

“The blue pins represent the potential slayers that the Watcher’s Council has been able to save. The red are those that we haven’t.”

“At least there’s more blue on that map than red," Anya said. She moved closer and looked at the United States. “What’s this here?” She said, pointing to the Midwest. “There’s a line of blue.”

“From what Quentin has told me, there’s a young potential that’s going cross country doing her best to save as many as she can," Giles said. “She’s doing a great service.”

“Do we have any idea what’s killing them off?”

Giles walked over and lifted a photograph and taped it to the wall. “This was sent to me this morning by the council. One of their operatives got this picture in Spain after he’d killed him.”

Anya looked at the figure. His skin was pale and milky and he had runes carved into his face where his eyes should be. “That’s very disturbing.”

“We have no idea who they work for," Giles said. “But Quentin did say that for some reason…” He sighed and massaged the back of his neck. “That some the potentials have reported having dreams.” He looked at Anya. “And their dreams are leading them here.”

“Here? To Sunnydale? Why?” She asked.

“Yes, yes, and I’m not entirely sure.” Giles returned. “Perhaps they are coming here for security.”

“If that’s the case, then it’s going to get really crowded, really quick," Anya said. “I am not letting potentials live in my apartment with Xander. That’s our space and I am not going to share it.”

Giles nodded. “I understand completely. I would rather not have my home invaded by wayward teenage girls either.”

“Tell the Watchers Council to rent or buy, I don’t know, an old mansion or motel or something," Anya said. “Something with a lot of space that can hold all the girls. Lord knows how many there are going to be.”

Giles stood and thought for a moment. He grinned widely and turned to Anya, pulling her in and kissing the top of her head. “You’re a genius.” He said, trotting past her to the office.

She watched him go and grinned happily. “I like being a genius.” She said, going back out to the sales floor.

Giles shut the door to the office and dropped into the chair behind the desk. He immediately dialed Quentin’s direct line.

“Hello, Quentin Travers office. How may I help you?” The receptionist asked, pleasantly.

“It’s Rupert Giles. I need to speak with Quentin. It’s rather urgent.” Giles said, pulling his glasses off.

“One moment and I’ll transfer you.” She said.

The phone clicked over and was answered immediately. “Rupert.”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier. About the potentials being led to Sunnydale. Did we ever find out why?”

“Unfortunately, no. They only all seem to feel Faith is at the center of their reasoning. They’re being drawn to the slayer. There’s been no information on why they are feeling the compulsion. They simply are. And those that have been brought here all tell the same story and repeat the same ominous warning.”

“From beneath you, it devours," Giles said, massaging the bridge of his nose. “The Hellmouth.”

“That is what we’ve been able to get from it," Quentin said, his tone somber. “The reasons still remain unclear as to why. Even your Seer, Miss Chase can’t shed any light on that aspect. We’re doing all the research we can, but with limited success.”

“Pretty soon potentials are going to start showing up en masse," Giles said. “And we’ve got nowhere to put them.” He paused. “But you do.”

“What are you talking about?” Quentin asked.

Giles was loathe to bring it up, but desperate times… “Do you remember the location you chose for Buffy’s Cruciamentum?”

“The old boardinghouse," Quentin said. He immediately understood what his man in the field was getting at. “We do still own the location. It’s in serious need of repair, but I suppose it would suffice to house the potentials.”

“You understand how the rules work. It has to be put into someone’s name and they have to live there on site.” Giles said. “Otherwise these girls are nothing more than a buffet to the vampire population.”

“Quite right.” Quentin smiled. “I have just the person that can oversee the location.”

Giles knew immediately who Quentin was speaking of. “Is he ready for that?”

“I would dare say so," Quentin said. “He’s been working one on one with Philip. You know where Philip received his training.”

“SAS," Giles said, nodding. “He’s passing that knowledge on?”

“The boy put word to wanting to be a part of the black books team.” Quentin offered. “I laughed at him at first, it has to be said.” He sighed. “Then Philip informed me of his marksmanship skills. I quickly stopped laughing.”

Giles again massaged his nose. “I’m assuming his rather… _unique_  personality hasn’t changed.”

“I’m sorry, but no. Although I’ve never seen anyone who knew so much about Doctor Who in my life. Nigel is a huge fan and they can go for  _hours_.”

“If you think he’s ready, then you can send him," Giles said.

“I’ll contact a crew and see about getting the boarding house put to rights.” Quentin paused a moment. “Does Faith know what to expect?”

“I haven’t told her yet. I plan on having a meeting with everyone tonight. They all deserve to know how serious things are about to get.” Giles said.

“I’m still not entirely happy with you having a vampire in the midst of all of this," Quentin said, his tone serious. “It flies in the face of all we do here.”

“Believe me, two years ago, I’d agree with you," Giles said. “But you didn’t see him, Quentin. When Dawn was in danger…you’ve read the reports of Spike. The diaries for the past century are littered with accounts. Two slayers have lost their lives to him. He was a monster in every sense of the word, but when Glory captured him, you didn’t see what she did to him. She tortured him brutally and he didn’t crack, Quentin. The evil, bloodsucking demon…didn’t give Dawn up.”

“That is rather strange, I’ll admit.” The elder Watcher sighed. “I will most likely as not never trust him, but given what is coming, we will need all the help we can get.”

“I know," Giles said. “I’ll inform everyone this evening of what is happening and start preparing.”

“We’ll keep you informed," Quentin said, ending the call.

Giles nodded and immediately began calling all of the group, telling them to meet at the Magic Box. He had information to share with them.

“And he didn’t say what it was about?” Faith asked as she slid in behind the wheel of her Roadrunner.

“No," Willow said. “He just said that he had something he had to tell us.” She belted into the passenger seat as Tara settled into the back. “He seemed pretty serious, though.”

The big black Mopar pulled out of the driveway and headed off. Behind her, the little blue form of Dawn’s Bug and Justine’s black Chevelle were both visible. Buffy raced past them all on her Honda. Daniel clung to her back as she sped away.

Faith fought the urge to catch up. In minutes, they arrived at the shop. Xander’s Charger was already in the parking lot. They climbed out and headed inside as a group. Olivia, Anya, and Xander were all seated around the large table as they came in.

Giles was standing cleaning his glasses. “Thank you all for coming.” He said putting his spectacles back on. “Anya and Olivia already know all of what I’m about to tell you.” He looked at the group. “Over the past few weeks, potential slayers all over the world, as well as their Watchers are being targeted for elimination.” He wheeled out the corkboard that had his map tacked to it. “The blue pins on this map are the potentials that were able to be saved.”

“I’m assuming the red ones are the casualties?” Faith asked.

“Unfortunately.” Giles offered. “I’ve been in contact with Quentin Travers. He’s said that the potentials have all been having terrible dreams. And every single one of them has been hearing, in some fashion, these words.” He turned the board around.

_From beneath you, it devours._

“Any idea what it means?” Daniel asked.

“The Hellmouth," Willow said. “If potentials all over the world are having that same dream, it’s a warning.” Everyone nodded their agreement.

“Aside from this portent…” Giles sighed heavily and looked at Faith. “The potentials are all dreaming of you.”

“Me?” Faith said, confused. “Why me?”

“It makes sense.” Tara offered, softly. “If the potential slayers would be drawn to anything, it would have to be the current active slayer.”

“But…what am I supposed to do with them?” Faith asked, almost frantic.

“Lead them," Giles said. “Protect them.” He then shrugged. “You know, the details are still pretty dodgy.”

Faith sighed and dropped her head onto the table. “Fuck me.” She said. She sat up and looked at him. “I can’t do it, Tweed. I’m barely able to figure my own life out, let alone help anyone else.”

“Faith?” Justine addressed her. “You’ve been helping out all along. You’ve actually given very little damn about yourself. Look what you did for me. What you’ve done for Dawn. You kept Buffy from the scrap heap. You rode to the rescue for Angel and all of that while slaying, helping to run a household and holding down a job.”

“She’s right, you know," Spike said to her.

“I don’t see how-,”

“You’re a natural born leader, Faith.” He said, smiling. “Whether you know it or not. Whether you believe it or not.”

“But you don’t have to do it alone, sweetie," Tara said.

Xander moved over a dropped a hand on her shoulder. “Everyone here is gonna help, Faith. You’re never gonna be alone again. We played that game and it didn’t work out so well.”

Faith looked up at him, resting her hand on his. “Yeah. I don’t do so well on my own.”

“Show them what’s killing the potentials," Anya said. “They’re creepy.”

Giles nodded and taped up the picture he’d received. Spike rose to his feet and looked at it. “I’ve seen a couple of these blokes around.”

“When?” Giles asked him.

“Every so often I take a stroll down to Willy’s. When Justine here is at work. Just passin’ the time until she gets back. A few days ago there was a pair of blokes wearing these same robes.” He then pointed to the blade on the ground next to him. “Had knives like that, too.”

“Who are they?” Faith asked.

“We don’t have any idea," Giles said. “Like I said, I’ve been in contact with Quentin. He’s got the entire Watcher’s Council looking into it. Cordelia’s been having visions about the potentials and coordinating with them to save as many as they can.” He pointed to the collection of blue pins in the Great Lakes area. “And from what he says, there’s a potential that’s traveling the country collecting potentials, trying to save them as well.”

“And they’re all coming here,” Faith said. “Then it looks like we don’t have a choice. We need information.” She tapped the picture. “We need to know who these guys work for.” She looked to Spike. “You’re on capture and contain. You find one of these assholes, take him someplace secure and keep him under wraps. I wanna question him. Find out what he knows. Until we know what we’re dealing with, we’re all on the buddy system. Everyone carries their cell and it’s always on.” She looked to Tara and Willow. “Gonna need you two to help set up safe zones. Here, our place, Xander’s apartment, and Giles’ place. Protection spells from hell. I don’t want a sugar ant able to get in without say so. You see any of these fuckers unless you’re me, double B or Spike, you run. You don’t get creative, you don’t get heroic. You fuckin’ run.” She looked at Justine. “That goes for you, too.”

“If potentials are taking these guys out left and right…” Justine began, not understanding.

“Quentin informs me that they use pack tactics," Giles said. “Two and three at a time.”

“You heard the man,” Faith said. “We’re all in pairs when we leave the house. And no walking anywhere. You drive. Period.” She looked at everyone. “You need a ride somewhere, call one of us. And we’ll get you there.” Tara and Willow both smiled and regarded her. She looked at them and shook her head. “What?” She asked.

“Look at you," Willow said. “All ‘take charge’, girl. You always do this.”

Everyone in the room nodded to her. Faith didn’t understand what they were getting at… until she actually thought about it. “Well, shit.” She said, crossing her arms. “That still leaves one big question. Where are we gonna put a shit load of potentials?”

“Actually, I’ve got that one handled," Giles said, smiling. “And it seems to have a rather…poetic irony.”

“Do I even wanna know?” Faith asked.

“Do you remember me telling you of Buffy’s Cruciamentum?” He asked, grinning.


	10. Chapter 10

 

Faith strolled along beside Buffybot. “Thank you for inviting me to patrol with you, Faith.” The bot said, happily.

“No problem, B.” Faith returned, keeping her eyes and senses open.

“I don’t think Daniel wants to get married,” Buffybot said, out of the blue.

Faith looked at her. “What makes you say that? Kid’s wild about you.” She then grinned. “I hear it when you two go at it. He’s turned you into a screamer.”

The robot smirked. “He’s better at sex that Spike was.”

“Don’t ever tell Spike that,” Faith said, chuckling. “His fragile ego would never recover. But what makes you think that Daniel doesn’t wanna marry you? Whenever I talk about it with him, he seems pretty happy about the idea.”

“We were talking last night after sex and he brought up the fact that I’m supposed to be Buffy…but Buffy’s dead.”

Faith didn’t understand for a second, then it dawned on her. “Oh, shit. Kid’s got a point.”

“What do you mean?” Buffybot asked.

“Well…as strange as this is, he’s right. I mean, you’re walking around using B’s social security number, her ID and well, you’re  _her_. But she’s also listed as being dead.” Faith stopped walking and rubbed her hands over her face. “We’ve gotta talk to Red about this. We’re gonna have to…I don’t know. Maybe we can have her hack in and expunge the records of Buffy’s death.”

“I don’t have any hacking protocols,” Buffybot said, sadly. “Otherwise I would do it myself.” She looked at Faith. “So Daniel wants to still marry me?”

“I’m sure he does.” Faith offered. “But right now?” She grinned. “We got some fun coming our way.”

“Three vampires,” Buffybot said. “Three dead men walking.”

“My thoughts exactly.” She embraced the blonde. “Look scared.” Buffybot immediately clutched Faith’s jacket and began trembling, looking at the men encroaching from the bushes with abject terror. “Wh-what do you guys want?” Faith asked, sounding genuinely afraid.

“Don’t you girls know it’s dangerous out here?” One of them asked. He was tall with a dark blue denim jacket. “Isn’t safe.”

“Then we’ll um, we’ll be on our way home,” Faith said, moving away from him. She knew the two of them were backing into the pair of waiting vamps. They were a pace away when Faith looked at Buffybot. “Now,” she said, releasing the blonde and snatching the stake from her belt.

Buffybot mimicked the girl’s motions perfectly. The two looked like mirror images of each other as they spun and rammed the stakes into the vampire’s chests in one graceful motion. “Looks like your Bulldogs have rubber teeth,” Buffybot said, staring the lone vampire down. He looked at her as if she’d grown another head.

Faith belted out a laugh and had to rest her hands on her knees. “Christ, double B,” she said, trying to catch her breath.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” The vampire asked, really not understanding the quip at all.

Buffybot hurled the stake at him, impacting his chest and hurling him backward to explode into dust. “It’s life in the Big Rock Candy Mountains, bitch,” she said, matter of fact.

Faith stood and looked at the robot, before busting out laughing again. “Don’t ever stop being you, double B,” she said, hugging the bot. “You’re awesome.”

“I can’t stop being me, Faith,” Buffybot said, not understanding.

Faith wiped her eyes and looked at her watch. “Come on. Red, T-bear, and Daniel are already at the Bronze.” Faith didn’t miss the sparkle in Buffybot’s eyes when she mentioned Daniel’s name. The pair trotted to the Roadrunner parked in the cemetery’s parking lot.

They came to a stop when they saw a pair of men attempting to jimmy the doors open. Faith sighed heavily and shook her head. “As if this town didn’t have enough problems,” she said, softly. “You know, you boys are going at that all wrong.” She sashayed up to them.

They both spun to look at the pair of them. “How the fuck do you know?” The closest one asked her.

“Because I know of an even better way in than those fuckin’ things,” Faith said. “Here. Let me show you.” She reached into her pocket and pulled the keys out. “These are a lot easier.”

The pair of boys grinned and began moving toward them. “Appreciate it.” The other said. “Hand ‘em over and we don’t have to take ‘em.”

Faith stuffed them back into her pocket. “Tell you what, slick. You can get ‘em from me, you can have ‘em.”

“Not a problem,” he said, chuckling.

“I’ve got the other one,” Buffybot said, walking toward the second of the crooks.

“This is gonna be fun,” he said to the blonde.

“Not for you.” Buffybot returned before closing the distance with him and hammering him across the chest with her arm. The impact was so brutal that he was flipped up into the air. She turned on her heel and caught him, before throwing him down onto the concrete. He landed with a grotesque  _crunch_. “No car for you,” she said to his unconscious form.

The thief moving in on Faith didn’t see the exchange. He was too busy leering at the pretty brunette. “You know, why don’t we climb into that backseat and have a little fun?”

“Ain’t got time for that,” Faith said. “Not that you’d be able to last that long anyway,” she said. “But I’ve got people waiting for me. So, not to whup and run, but…” She shot forward, putting a hard boot into his stomach. He grunted and doubled over. She quickly flipped to the side, executing a rapid corkscrew kick that slammed down across his shoulders. He smacked into the pavement unconscious.

She landed on her feet and looked down at him. She knelt and rolled him over, rummaging through his pockets. She found a pair of keys, a pocket full of cash and a nice chrome Zippo. “Nice.”

Buffybot saw what Faith did and followed suit with the man she dropped. She found his wallet, a pocket knife, and a cell phone. “Here,” she said, handing it all to Faith with a smile.

The slayer took it all and emptied the boy’s wallet. “Huh. Eighty-six bucks.“ She said, stuffing it into her pocket. “Looks like these boys just paid for our night out.” She looked at the keys. “Looks like they drive a Ford.” She looked around and stopped. “Oh God,” she said, in disgust. “No wonder they were trying to steal my car.” She pointed to the small blue hatchback.

“1983 Ford Escort 3-door,” Buffybot said. “Really good on gas mileage.”

Faith tossed the keys down next to the unconscious carjacker and shook her head. “Pieces of shit if you ask me,” she said, moving toward her classic muscle car. “Come on. Let’s roll.”

As they pulled up to the club, Faith was grinning like crazy. She was looking forward to getting on the floor with her two favorite ladies. She parked and made their way inside. The band on stage was a rather good classic rock cover band. She wasn’t sure what their name was, but they were pretty good. It was a hell of a departure from the crap that normally permeated.

Tara, Willow, and Daniel were all sitting in one of the back tables, chatting idly. Faith and Buffy pushed through the crowd. All three of them stood to greet their loves. Faith planted a searing kiss on Willow’s lips then turned to offer the same to Tara.

Buffybot wrapped her arms around Daniel, pressed her lithe form up against him and plundered his mouth with her tongue. He reciprocated in kind, taking a hold of her firm bottom and giving it a squeeze. The beautiful girl in his arms responded and moaned sensually.

“How did patrol go?” Tara asked, pulling Faith to sit down between them at the table.

The slayer was glad to see a plate full of large muffins and a glass of coke. She settled in and snatched a chocolate muffin from the plate. “Three vampires and two carjackers.” She took a bite. “Almost felt bad for them, though. They were rolling in an old Ford Escort.” She shuddered. “I’d be tempted to steal a car too if that was all I had.” She looked up at Daniel and Buffy, still in the midst of making out. “You two might wanna come up for air.”

They pulled apart, both licking their lips. “Sorry,” Daniel said, blushing.

“No need to apologize, D. You’re in love. Can’t tell you how hard it is not to grab these two and get all shades of nasty right now,” Faith said, offering her fist.

He bumped it, smiling. “I’m glad you prompted me to ask her out.” He turned to look into Buffybot’s beautiful hazel eyes. “Best thing I’ve ever done.”

“I think so, too,” Buffybot said, smiling at him. “Come on,” she said, taking his hand and pulling him to the dance floor. “I want to dance for you and make you want me.”

Faith, Tara, and Willow all laughed. “You’re screwed,” Willow said, giddy.

“Lookin’ forward to it,” Daniel said as Buffy dragged him along.

Faith bit her lip and looked at her two girls. “I um…couldn’t help but notice that both of you are wearing the rather short skirts I picked up for you.”

Tara and Willow both looked at each other and nodded, grinning. Each of them took one of Faith’s hands and pulled it lower. “Why do you think that might be?” Tara asked.

 

He finished tucking the books into the large chest. He then looked around the spacious room that had been his home for the past four and a half months. He let out a deep breath.

“You look rather nervous.” He heard the sharp British voice of his mentor behind him.

He turned to look at the man. “I am, a little.”

“Relax, son.” The man said, stepping closer to him. “You’ll do fine.”

“But…am I ready?” He asked. “I’ve only been training for…”

“I know,” Philip said, resting his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “But you have to understand, Andrew. You’ve been dealing with this nearly your entire life. And you’ve progressed far beyond my expectations. Quentin selected you for this  _personally_.”

“I know. And I think he’s crazier than Dumbledore,” Andrew said.

Philip chuckled. “A little madness is fine in a leader but  _that’s_  a bit excessive. You know what to expect. You’re familiar with the Hellmouth and with the people guarding it. They’re going to need that knowledge. They’re going to need your intellect, your instincts.”

“But are the potentials going to wanna listen to me?” He asked. “I mean, no offense but I’m still not that strong in the hand to hand department.”

“You were able to fight Nigel to a standstill. He’s no slouch,” Philip said.

“Still never got you off your feet,” Andrew said, looking up at the man.

“Well, no. But I’ve got more than just Watcher training on my resume.” He smiled and pulled the boy in for a hug. “You’ll do just fine, Andrew. You know what you need to know and can do what needs doing. I made sure of that.”

“I’m just worried that I’m not going to be much help,” Andrew said, nervously. “What if they just ignore me?”

“Don’t let them. You’re a representative of the Watcher’s Council. You’ll have to act like it. If that means being aggressive, then be aggressive. But keep in mind, these girls are going to be scared and believe themselves to be alone. They’re going to need a firm but kind hand. That’s why we chose you. You’ll never be a Watcher like me. No matter how hard you train, no matter how strong, fast and gifted you are, you’ll never be a killer, Andrew.”

The boy knew of Philip’s far from laudable past. The man was a stone cold, card-carrying badass. He’d been to places and done things that would give Andrew nightmares. But he was also a very, very good teacher. When Andrew first arrived, Philip didn’t think much of him. But he took Andrew under his wing and every day for the past four months he worked with the boy. Andrew already knew pretty much everything he needed to about research and the supernatural. Given his demon summoning abilities, he was an encyclopedia of knowledge in that regard. But he couldn’t fight his way out of a wet paper bag.

Philip changed that. For hours, every single day, he worked Andrew nearly to death. The boy was in relatively good shape to start with. Now, he was chiseled in marble. His fat was gone, replaced by muscle as hard as rolled steel. His fighting skills were miles from what he’d had before but he still had a ways to go.

Just two weeks prior, Philip had trapped the boy in a room with nothing but a stake and a vampire. He wanted to gauge how prepared Andrew was. The boy performed admirably. He was scared, that much was obvious but he didn’t let that fear rule him. He killed the vampire efficiently and effectively. Then promptly threw up.

But it told Philip everything he needed to know. Now, he was certain that Andrew was ready for the task he was being set to. “You’ve got a plane to catch.”

“Thanks, Philip. For everything,” Andrew said, hugging the man.

“You’ve been a very apt pupil, Andrew. Come what may, I’m proud of you,” he said to the young man.

Andrew stepped back, straightened his Tweed jacket and lifted his briefcase. He nodded to Philip and left the room. He moved down and climbed into the van that was waiting for him on the busy London street. Two younger men had carried his trunk down and slid it in the back.

A half hour later, they pulled up to the private hangar on the tarmac of London Heathrow Airport. A private jet sat waiting on the runway. He exited the van and climbed up the ladder to the plush interior of the jet. He settled in and waited. He was never a fan of flying but he had to admit, if he had to fly then a private plane was the way to do it.

Soon the plane was taxiing. He leaned back and strapped himself in for the ten-hour long flight to Sunnydale Airport. He closed his eyes and hoped that he would be able to make a difference.

 

Giles looked at the pair of books he had in his hands and then up to the shelves. He slid the one in his left home and took the other a little further down before shelving it as well. The bell above the door jingled. “Welcome to the Magic Box. How can I help you?” Anya said, happily.

“We’re um…we’re looking for Rupert Giles.” A woman offered.

He turned to regard her. She was tall with long dark hair, a tanned complexion, and nervous brown eyes. “I’m Rupert Giles,” he said, offering a disarming smile. “How can I help you?”

“It’s, it’s difficult to explain.” The woman said, looking to the girl beside her.

Giles guessed her age at roughly sixteen years. He immediately understood. “Please, come sit down.” He looked to Anya and to the door.

She sighed and rolled her eyes, before reluctantly walking over to turn the open sign around.

“Would you like some tea?” He asked. “It might help you relax.”

“That would be fine, thank you.” The woman said, taking a seat and setting her purse next to her. “I’m Marie Hoffman. This is my daughter Chloe.”

“Anya? Would you be so kind?” Giles asked as he offered Marie his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He then looked to Chloe. “And you as well.” The girl took his hand. He could tell she had a rather firm grip. “So what brings you to Sunnydale?”

“Well…” Marie said, not knowing where to start. “A year ago, a man came to the house. He was British, I know that much. He said some very strange things. He talked about vampires and, and monsters.” She shook her head. “I thought he was just crazy.” She rested a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “He said the Chloe here was special. That there were a few girls like her all over the world that could be…”

“Called? Chosen?” Giles asked.

Marie nodded. “He said she was something called a  _potential_.” She took the tea that Anya handed her. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” The ex-demon said, before turning about and moving back to the register.

Marie eyed the woman for a moment then turned back to Giles. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No. She’s like that to everyone except customers.” He shook his head. “It’s a long story, don’t ask. Please continue.”

She sipped the tea and did just that. “Well, after he told us all of that, I dismissed him. I told him to leave us alone.” She turned to Chloe. “She insisted that we listen to him. We argued about it for months. Finally, she just…stopped talking about him.” She sighed and looked at Giles. “She’d been talking to him and visiting him behind my back.”

Giles turned to Chloe. “What was his name?”

“Terrence Whitman,” Chloe said. “He was a really good guy. He taught me a lot. He was training me how to fight.”

“Where is he now?” Giles asked.

“I don’t know,” Chloe said. “He just disappeared about a week ago.”

Giles nodded. He was going to contact the Watcher’s Council to let them know the girl had shown up anyway. He’d ask after Terrence then. He turned to Marie. “What prompted you to seek me out?”

“A couple weeks ago a girl showed up. She said she was just like Chloe. A potential.”

“Was her name Macy Maxwell?” He asked her.

Marie shrugged but Chloe nodded. “She was really…dangerous looking. She kinda freaked me out. She said that there were men coming to kill Chloe and that she needed to get here. To find you and a girl named Faith. That you would be able to protect us.”

Giles nodded. “You came just on her say so?”

“At first, we just thought she was off her rocker. But when a pair of men showed up at our house, Macy helped us. Her and another girl. I forget her name…”

“Tammy,” Chloe added softly. “She was another potential that Macy had saved.”

“These men that attacked you. What did they look like?”

Marie shuddered. “They were pale and bald. Red cloaks and carried…”

Chloe reached into her jacket and set a knife down on the table. “They carry those,” she said to Giles.

“Where did you get that?” Marie asked, sharply.

“Macy gave it to me to show him when I found him. Said it might help him somehow,” Chloe said, looking at the Watcher. “Does it?”

He lifted it and furrowed his brow. “It’s extremely light.” He spun it in his hand back and forth. “Perfectly balanced.” He then dragged his thumb along the edge. It was razor sharp. He stuck his thumb in his mouth. “It might. Thank you.”

“Those are what the men were carrying,” Marie said. “And they had…” She closed her eyes to keep from tearing up. “They had no eyes. They had scars where their eyes should be.”

“And you say this…Macy killed them? How many?”

“Two,” Chloe said. “She beat them to death with a baseball bat wrapped in duct tape.”

Giles smiled widely. It was a rather clever use of the implement. Heavy, easy to find, didn’t take a lot of skill to utilize and wrapping it in duct tape as she had kept it from fracturing. “You did well in coming here,” he said to the pair. “We’ve been expecting potentials to start arriving soon. There will be more like you,” he said to Chloe. “The Watcher’s Council has a boarding house that they’re currently renovating. But we can find someplace for you to stay in the meantime.”

Marie nodded. “We…we don’t have a lot of money.”

“That’s quite alright,” he said rising to his feet. “We can make arrangements. If you’ll wait here just a moment, I’ll be right back.”

He went into his office and closed the door. He quickly dialed Xander’s cell phone.

“Hey, Giles.”

“Xander. The um, the first potential just showed up at the Magic Box with her mother. How close is the boarding house to being ready?”

“Jeez, that was fast.” He looked around and sighed. “Well, all the plumbing and electrical is done. We’ve pretty much just gotta lay carpet and get the appliances and furniture ordered. Should be another three, maybe four days.”

Giles sighed. “Alright, thank you, Xander.“

“I’ll check with the head office and see if we can approve some overtime to get it done in a couple of days.” Xander offered. “Can’t guarantee it but I’ll see what I can do.”

“It would be appreciated,” Giles said. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” Xander said, ending the call.

Giles then dialed the Summers house. “‘Ello?” Spike answered.

“Hello, Spike. Is Tara, Willow or Faith available?”

“One second,” he said, moving into the kitchen. “Hey, Glinda. It’s Giles,” he said, handing the blonde witch the phone.

“Thank you, Spike,” she said, softly. “Hello, Giles.”

“It’s begun,” he said. “Our first potential has shown up.”

“Did you need me to come down and talk to them?” She asked him.

“No, she and her mother seem fine enough but they don’t exactly have a lot of money or a place to stay.”

Tara bit her lip. “I suppose we could make room.” Something dawned on her. “Oh, let me get a hold of Faith. She’s at work. I’ll ask her if she’d be willing to pay for a hotel room until the boarding house is finished.”

“I’d appreciate it,” he said. “Thank you, Tara.”

“I’ll call you back in a couple of minutes,” she said.

An hour later, Faith walked into the Magic Box. “Hey, Anya. Where’s Tweed?” She asked, looking around.

“He’s in the office. He won’t let me open the store,” she said, pouting.

Faith chuckled. “You’ll live,” she said. Her eyes fell on Chloe and her mother. “You must be potential number one,” she said, moving over and offering her hand. “Faith. Current slayer.”

Chloe stood and took her hand. “I’m Chloe. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

Faith smiled and reached out, giving the girl’s arm a squeeze. “You got some beef, girl.” Chloe gave her a blushing smile. “You must be her older sister.” Faith decided to flatter the woman.

Marie, like her daughter, blushed. “No, I’m her mother.” She took Faith’s hand.

“Bullshit,” Faith said. “What, did you have her when you were like, twelve?”

“Nice try,” Marie said, grinning. “I’m forty, sweetie.”

“Damn. I hope I look that good when I’m your age,” Faith said. “So you guys needed a place to crash until the boarding house is up and running?” The pair nodded. “Cool. Gimme a second and I’ll take you both to get a hotel room.” She patted their shoulders and headed for the office. She tapped on the door and opened it.

“Yes, she arrived here just about an hour ago,” Giles said, pacing, the phone glued to his ear. “No, I’ve managed to get Faith to…she said it was fine and not to worry about it.” He looked at Faith and motioned her in. “No, her mother wants to stay with her.” He sighed. “Yes, Quentin I realize she’s a civilian…no I don’t think it will complicate things overmuch. She’s sixteen years old, Quentin, what would you have me do?” He stopped and glared. “That isn’t funny, Quentin. Look, don’t worry about it. We’ll think of something. What have you learned of her Watcher, Terrence?” Giles breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. I’m glad he’s safe for the time being. Why did he leave her alone?” He paused and nodded. “That is a good idea, actually. It didn’t work, but it was a good idea. Though, I’m not sure about using his own daughter as a…It was  _her_  idea?” He was shocked. “Alright, I’ll let her know. It might be of some comfort to her to know she wasn’t abandoned.”

He hung up the phone and looked to Faith. “He suggested feeding Marie to Spike,” he said, deadpan.

“That’s harsh,” Faith said, leaning against the wall. “So what’s the deal?”

“We put them up in the hotel until the boarding house is finished. Simple.”

“What about her Watcher?” Faith asked.

“He’d heard of the attacks on other potentials and sought the lure the killers away. His daughter suggested that he use her as bait to draw them off. He was trying to protect Chloe,” Giles said.

“That’s ballsy,” Faith said. “I just wanted to check in with you. I’m gonna check ‘em into the New Sunnydale Arms. Spike and Justine are gonna take up the room next to theirs to keep ‘em safe. They’re already there.”

“Will Spike be able to enter a hotel room unbidden?” Giles asked.

“Yeah. It’s fucked up, but yeah,” Faith said.

Giles suddenly paled. “The whole time you were in Sunnydale before, you stayed in the…”

“Don’t. Just don’t,” Faith said, shaking her head and waving her hand dismissively. “Red already freaked out about it. I was as safe as I needed to be.”

“It doesn’t excuse the fact that I was your Watcher and was responsible for you,” Giles said, his tone sharp. “Had I known that Faith I would have insisted that you stay with me in my flat.”

“Yeah, that’s just what you needed. A fifteen-year-old runaway living in your spare room," Faith said. “Gimme a break. I’m fine, okay. The past is just that. The past. Let’s move on to the future.” She thumbed out onto the sales floor. “And the future starts with that scared little girl and her mother.”

“Right,” Giles said, nodding. “But I want you to know, Faith. I  _am_  sorry for what you’ve been through. Everything turned out alright but the path to get here was much more tumultuous than it had to be.”

“Hey. Some of the funnest roads to drive are the bumpiest,” Faith said, before heading back out.

Giles revealed to Chloe what happened to Terrence. He and his daughter were both attacked but managed to fight the robed assassins off. He was currently in hospital and recovering from surgery.

Faith then took the pair to the hotel. She checked them into the nice double occupancy suite and gave them carte blanche to enjoy themselves. Chloe looked around the room after Faith left and moved over to sit on the bed. “I’m scared,” she said, lifting her knees up and wrapping her arms around her legs.

Marie dropped down beside her daughter and held her close. “I know, baby. But it’ll work out.”

Chloe lowered her head to her knees and cried.


	11. Chapter 11

 

She shifted gears and pushed the Porsche Boxster 987 to even greater speeds. She looked at the photograph of the old motorhome on her seat and kept her eyes peeled. She could feel a bit of fatigue dragging her down but she kept her speed up. It was almost one in the morning and she was tired as hell. She looked in her rearview mirror. She could no longer see the old Ford Explorer SUV but she didn’t for a moment believe that she’d lost it permanently.

Her only chance was safety in numbers. When the cloaked men with no eyes attacked her and her Watcher he told her to run, she did as she was told. She’d been driving for over ten hours straight. She wanted to stay and fight but she knew that she was no match for three of the bastards. Davy, her Watcher was one of the most capable men she knew. He held the three of them off while she climbed into her little silver Porsche and drove like hell. Twenty minutes later, driving a late 90’s Ford Explorer, two of the assassins tried running her off the road.

Now, she was pushing speeds in excess of a hundred miles an hour, just to keep ahead of them. She’d only stopped for gas. Each time, she would get back on the road to see them still on her tail. It had been over an hour since she’d seen them. The only bit of information she had was from some man named Quentin Travers, saying that she should meet up with a potential named Macy Maxwell. According to him, she had been brutalizing the cloaked killers left and right and had been saving potentials all across the Mideast.

He emailed her a picture of the old motorhome that the girl was driving and said that she was headed for Montana. So she hit Interstate 90 and prayed that the girl was taking the main freeway.

She’d seen a few RV’s that looked like the one she sought but in the end, all of them were being driven by old men or women. Quentin assured her that there would most likely as not be a teenage girl behind the wheel.

So she kept on. She again checked her rearview mirror. “Jesus Christ. You’ve gotta be kidding me,” she said, seeing the old tan Explorer creeping up behind her. She saw the pair of robed men staring straight ahead. “Leave it to supernatural killers to pick an Explorer with a damn V-8 in it,” she said, sarcastically. She shifted into a higher gear, again putting distance between the killers and herself. “Boxster or not, it’s a still a Porsche, bitch,” she said as her speed crested one hundred and thirty. “Catch me now, motherfucker.”

She had to fight to keep control of the car. The engine was starting to knock and ping. Given that she’d been beating the hell out of it for nearly two thousand miles, she wasn’t necessarily surprised. Blue smoke was pouring out of the exhaust. “Come on, baby. Just a little further, I promise,” she said as she dodged traffic on the massive superhighway. She blasted past the Montana state line and smiled. She again prayed that she would find the…

There! Up ahead of her she saw the rig she was looking for. She slowed and moved in front of it and flashed her lights, pointing to the right. She hoped the girl behind the wheel would get the hint. She let out a sigh of relief when the motorhome flipped its blinker on and pulled over to the shoulder. She screeched to a stop and reached back and took hold of her hastily packed duffel bag and her phone.

She got out of the car and ran to the RV as a girl with flaming red hair, the brightest green eyes she’d ever seen and a build that reminded her of the mixed martial artists she’d seen at the gym she frequented stepped out of the motorhome. She was dressed in a pair of jeans with holes in the knees and a tank top that she was sure started out as white but had gone almost gray with wear. “You Macy?” The girl asked, trotting up to her.

“Yeah.” The girl said. “Who are you?”

The tanned brunette offered her hand. “Kennedy.” When Macy took it, she smiled. “Quentin Travers suggested I find you.” She suddenly looked dismayed. “Oh, you have gotta be _kidding_ me.”

Macy furrowed her brow and turned to see the Explorer pull off the road and screech to a stop. “Motherfuckers,” she said, turning and walking toward them, angrily.

“What are you doing?” Kennedy asked.

Macy didn’t answer her. She simply clenched her fists and stalked in. The pair of cloaked killers rushed toward her. Kennedy was flat out  _stunned_  at what happened next.

The first of the killers pulled his knife and attacked. Macy gripped his wrist, turned, and brought his arm down over her shoulder, breaking it at the elbow. She issued a hard back side kick to the second assassin, taking him across the face, staggering him. She pulled on the now broken arm and flipped her initial assailant over and onto the concrete on his back. She released his arm and quickly gripped his head, twisting violently. His neck snapped with a sick _crunch_.

The second attacker kicked himself to his feet but was again on the ground as Macy swept his legs from beneath him. She rolled to the side and straddled his chest, snatching his knife from his hand and ramming it into his throat.

She rose to her feet and took the two knives with her. She walked back toward the motorhome and stopped in front of Kennedy. “Welcome to the team,” she said, before climbing the stairs.

“That was incredible,” she said, following the girl.

“Thanks,” Macy said, tossing the blades on the table. “Got two more to add to the box,” she said to the blonde girl that sat there. “This is Tammy. Chestnut with the jacket is Gwen. Girls, this is Kennedy.”

“Hello.” “Hi.” Tammy and Gwen offered respectively.

“You girls are all potentials, too?” Kennedy asked.

Macy looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “No. We’re the Lakers girls.” She shook her head and moved to the driver’s seat.

Kennedy laughed and turned to Gwen and Tammy who’d both taken to sitting down. “You might wanna-,” Tammy began. Macy took off, causing Kennedy to fall on her butt. “Sit down.”

The brunette rose to her feet and slid in beside Gwen. She leaned forward to talk to the girls. “She’s really intense.”

“She gets that way after five days with no sleep,” Tammy said. “She’ll go for another twelve hours or so before she finally crashes.”

“Why does she do that to herself?” Kennedy asked, looking at the grim-faced potential.

“So she doesn’t dream,” Gwen said. “Have you been having the dreams?”

“From beneath you, it devours,” Kennedy said, nodding. “Pretty creepy shit.”

Both girls nodded. “As bad as our nightmares are?” Tammy said, looking to Macy. “Hers are worse. She risked a nap when we first met.” She shook her head. “She woke up screaming herself hoarse. It took me almost ten minutes to get her to snap out of it. We were in a Wal-Mart parking lot. She was so loud that a couple in a nearby SUV stopped to ask if everything was alright.” She watched the girl shotgun the can of soda and crush the aluminum to the size of a golf ball before tossing it over her shoulder. Kennedy snatched if from the air and looked at. “Jeez. I work out like a fiend and even I can’t do this.”

“If I exhaust the fuck out of myself, I don’t dream,” Macy said from the driver’s seat. “But that’s my problem.”

“Not if you’re too tired to drive or fight,” Kennedy said. She got up and moved to the passenger seat.

“Did I look too tired to fight?” Macy asked, looking at her. “Do I look too tired to drive?”

“Personally?” Kennedy asked. “You look like crap. You got more luggage under your eyes than La Guardia.”

“And please note for the record that you were standing there with your thumb up your ass while I was killing the assassins that were chasing you,” Macy said. She sighed and turned back to the road. “Sorry. That was a fucked up thing to say.”

“ _That’s_  precisely why you need more sleep. I’m a spoiled little brat from New York and you’re bitchier than me. Trust me, if you knew me, that would be saying something,” Kennedy said with a smile.

“I can’t sleep,” Macy said. She looked back to see the girls settling in for the night. “My dreams scare me.”

Kennedy looked at her with a lascivious smile. “Maybe you need a different way to exhaust yourself.”

Macy slowly turned to look at the girl. “Did you just hit on me?”

“Not real quick on the uptake are you?” Kennedy asked her.

“What are you? A lesbian or something?”

“Yep. I’ve known I was a lesbian since I was five.” Kennedy admitted. “I watched Gone With the Wind and wanted to sweep Scarlett off her feet.”

Macy actually laughed. “Damn. You went old school. For a first crush, though Scarlett O’Hara isn’t a bad choice.”

“What about you? Who was your first crush?”

“Jonathan Frakes,” Macy said. “I thought he was sexy as hell as Commander Riker. But only after he got the beard. Without it, he looked twelve.”

“You into girls?” Kennedy asked her.

“Doesn’t really matter to me,” Macy said. “I’m bisexual. My first girl crush was Emily Procter.”

“Who is that?” Kennedy asked.

“Ainsley Hayes from West Wing. She also played Calleigh Duquesne on CSI Miami.”

“The blonde chick?”

Macy nodded. “She was just hot. Not exactly a fan of blondes but she just had that whole innocent thing going on that I liked.”

“Have you ever tried anything with these two?” Kennedy asked.

Macy looked at her. “You are really fucked up in the head, you know that?”

“It’s a legitimate question. I don’t wanna poach.” The brunette said.

“Okay. First, you have no idea I’m even attracted to you. Two, you’re obviously operating under the assumption that even if I were, that I’d be willing to date you. Three, you seem to think, for some fucked up ass reason that I’d be able to give you the attention that you – being a self-proclaimed spoiled little brat, and thus high maintenance – want or deserve and protect you three at the same time.”

Kennedy listened to the girl and nodded. “Allow me to retort.” She ticked the points off on her fingers. “First, I know you’re attracted to me. I’m cleaving like crazy and you’ve looked at my tits seven times since we started talking. Two, if it were under normal circumstances, I’m sure you  _would_  be willing to date me. Call it a hunch. And three? Okay, that one I’ll give you. I’m very high maintenance but that doesn’t mean I’m a bitch about it. I don’t just date rich girls. I date who I like. I don’t give a shit how much money they have. As long as I’m treated like I’m important to the person I’m with, I don’t care how much crap they buy me. I’d rather be flush with your sincerity and time than a bunch of useless crap and always be alone because my partner doesn’t have any time for me.”

Macy sighed and looked at her. “Why me?” She asked. “Why not try for one of these two?”

“Because they’re pussies,” Kennedy said. “You’re not. That and I’m partial to redheads.”

“This is gonna be one of those things that I’m either gonna have to accept and roll with or toss your ass out at the nearest rest stop, isn’t it?” Macy asked her.

“That depends,” Kennedy said, smiling. “How far is the nearest rest stop?”

“Six miles,” Macy said. She looked at the speedometer. “At this speed, you’ve got about four minutes.” She looked at the girl. “Make it good.”

“I can pit a cherry with my tongue,” Kennedy said. “And tie a not in the stem.”

Macy chuckled. “So can I.” She flicked her eyes to the sign on the side of the road. “Do better.”

“Damn,” Kennedy said, leaning back in the seat. “That one usually works. You’re really making me work for this, aren’t you?”

“If I made it too easy, you wouldn’t respect me,” Macy said. She was actually enjoying herself. “Two miles.”

“Would you really throw me out?” Kennedy asked, suddenly concerned.

“I don’t know yet.”

“I’ll show you my boobs.” The raven-haired potential said, seeing the ‘Rest Stop, Next Right’ sign.

Macy kept her speed up and didn’t change lanes. “I’m a bitch.” The girl said, looking at Kennedy. “Not a  _fucking_  bitch.”

“You actually had me worried,” Kennedy said.

“But I just want it understood. There can’t be anything really serious between us. Not yet. We can fuck and we can sleep together but I’m not getting emotionally invested until this shit is over.” She looked at the girl. “Can you live with that?”

Kennedy smiled at her. “Given that we’re gonna be together for a while, I’ll settle for that. But when everything is over, I expect a  _real_  date. Dinner, a movie, and dancing.”

“I eat like a horse, I hate chick flicks, and I don’t so much dance as shuffle my feet and grab my date’s butt,” Macy said.

“I don’t care how much you eat, if you expect sex at the end of the night, you’ll take me to see whatever the hell I wanna see and I don’t mind if you don’t know how to dance. And I like the idea of your hands all over my butt.”

“If I’m getting sex from you now, why would I have to suffer through a terrible movie for it?”

“Down payment,” Kennedy said. “I’m willing to screw your brains out now but in exchange for that…”

“I’m not watching Gone with the Wind with you. Don’t give a damn how good in bed you are,” Macy said, flatly.

“I saw it once. That was enough,” Kennedy said.

“Good,” Macy said. She looked to Kennedy. “You get  _one_  chick flick. And I swear to God it better not be City of Angels.”

“No. Hell no,” Kennedy said. “I hated that movie.”

 

Faith left the hotel and headed for home. She reached for the door handle and stopped. She saw the reflection in the window behind her and turned…

To see Joyce standing a few feet away from her. The look on her face was similar to the one she’d seen in the store. “Mrs. S?” She asked, slowly walking closer.

The woman had tears in her eyes. “Faith…” She said, her voice weak. “Oh, Faith.” She began to cry.

“How can you…you’re dead,” Faith said, shaking her head. “I saw your grave.”

“How could you?” Joyce said.

“What? How could I what?” Faith asked.

“She’s just a little girl,” Joyce said. Then, slowly she faded. “We trusted you.” Were the phantasm’s final words.

Faith stood, her body trembling. She stared for a moment at the spot the spectral image had been standing. Slowly, she turned and moved to her car.

Tara and Willow turned to see Faith walk into the kitchen. Her face was pale as snow and she had the stains of recently shed tears on her cheeks. “What happened?” Willow asked, rushing over to the slayer. Tara was right behind.

Faith sat on the stool. She looked at Tara. “I saw her again.” Her voice nearly failed her.

“Saw who again?” Willow asked.

Tara bit her lip and looked at Faith. The brunette nodded. “A while ago, when Faith and I were at the store getting the food for the barbecue, Faith thinks she might have seen Joyce.”

“But Joyce is dead,” Willow said. She looked at Faith. “Are you sure it was her?”

“Not then. That day, I thought my mind might have been playing tricks on me.” She looked up at her girlfriend. “That’s why we didn’t tell you. I thought I saw her but then she rounded a corner and was gone. It legit could have been someone that just looked like her.”

“Don’t lie to her, Faith,” Tara said, sternly. “Tell her what you told me.”

Faith sighed and lowered her head. “When I thought I saw her that first time, she looked right at me. It was her, I’m sure of it. She was, I don’t know. She looked sad. The whole disappointed parent face. But then she disappeared.”

Willow was a little upset that Faith and Tara didn’t tell her. “And you saw her again tonight?”

Faith nodded. “This time, I know it was her.” She looked up again. She had tears in her eyes. “She talked to me. She said my name.” She sobbed. “She said how could you, and that we trusted you.” She wiped her eyes. “That she was just a little girl.”

Tara and Willow looked at each other. “What was she talking about?” The redhead asked.

Faith was kind of heartened that they weren’t questioning whether what she saw was real or not. They believed her, bottom line. And that meant a lot to her. “I think she was talking about her and B trusting me and that Dawn is just a little girl.”

“Maybe but what would Dawn being a little girl have to do with anything?” Tara asked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It kind of does.” Willow offered. “Faith and Dawn go out patrolling together on occasion. Faith has been teaching Dawn how to fight.”

“And you think Joyce is disappointed in you because of that?” Tara asked Faith. Faith nodded. “No.” The Wiccan shook her head. “Not possible. I’ll guarantee that Joyce isn’t disappointed with you. I’m betting she’s proud of what you’ve done and how you’ve been handling things.”

“How can you be sure?” Faith asked.

“Tell you what?” Tara began. “Why don’t we have a séance tonight? Try to reach Joyce in the afterlife and find out how she feels about what you’re doing.”

“We need a medium,” Willow said, looking at Tara. “Someone that can accept Joyce’s spirit.”

“Liv,” Faith said. “Tweed says that she can see ghosts and shit.”

“It’s worth a try,” Tara said, smiling.

Willow contacted Giles and informed him of what Faith had seen and what they intended to do. Olivia was quick to agree.

Within an hour, Tara, Willow, Giles, Olivia, and Faith sat about the dining room table, ready to start the séance. Sacred candles sat at regular intervals burning away. Within their circle, sat a photograph of Buffy, Joyce, and Dawn at the beach from a few years back. They all knew full well that it meant a great deal to all of the Summers women as it was representative of a cherished memory.

Olivia began with everyone taking hands. “We are gathered tonight, loving friends to reach out to the spirit world. Joyce Summers, mother of Buffy and Dawn Summers, please come to us from your place of peace and tranquility. Please come to me, speak through me. I open myself to be your vessel.”

Faith, having been one to never really believe in séances, wasn’t necessarily surprised when nothing seemed to happen.

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She looked around, almost expecting to see Spike come through the door.

“Faith?” She heard a soft voice to her right. She turned to see Olivia staring at her, a warm smile on her face. “You look a lot less… _homicidal_  than the last time I saw you.” The voice was unmistakably Olivia’s. But there was something about her…

“Mrs. S?” Faith asked, not sure if she was just imaging what she was hearing. “Is it really you?”

“More or less,” Olivia said. “It’s been a long time.”

“Can’t be,” Faith said. “You, you’re dead.”

Olivia smiled. “Ruby sunset, burgundy skyline.” She chuckled. “Harlot.”

Faith’s eyes grew ten sizes. “Oh my god,” she said, suddenly choked up. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. S. I’d do anything to take it back.” She was crying now.

“I know that now, sweetie,” Olivia/Joyce said, squeezing Faith’s hand a little tighter. “Buffy talks to me. She tells me that she’s been watching you. She says you’re doing wonderful things. I always knew you were capable of a lot, Faith. You just needed people that cared about you.”

Faith smiled. “I found that Mrs. S. I got people that I love and that love me.” She looked to Tara and Willow. “I got a Watcher that really cares.” She turned to Giles. “I think that was something I always had if I could have gotten my head outta my ass.” He gave her a nod. “But I ain’t never gonna forget how nice you were to me,” she said looking back at Olivia. “I’m trying to be and do good, Mrs. S. I’m training Dawn how not to be a victim anymore.” She chuckled. “You should see her. She’s a badass.”

“Buffy tells me you’re taking her on patrols with you.” Faith didn’t miss the edge in her tone.

“Only every now and again,” Faith said. “Only with newbies and if we find more than a few vampires, she hightails it back to the car and I clean up. I don’t put her in danger if I can help it. But she’s gotta know how to handle herself in case I ain’t around. Surely you can see that.”

Olivia/Joyce nodded. “I can. I don’t like it, I’m going to be upfront with you but I can see the logic. Just make sure she doesn’t get too confident. She’s vulnerable, Faith. Especially with those… _things_  running around killing potentials.”

“I’ve got to ask,” Giles said. “Are you…are you in heaven?”

“Yes, Rupert,” she said, smiling at him. “And, if Olivia is willing, there’s someone that would like to say hi.”

“I’m sure she is,” Giles said, not sure where the woman was going with her statement.

Olivia closed her eyes and opened them again, looking directly at Giles. “How are you, Rupert, you sexy fuddy-duddy.” She chuckled. “I see I can still make you squirm.”

“Jenny?” He asked, shock evident in his voice.

“Joyce and I talk quite a bit about you,” she said. “It’s good to see you again.”

“I’m so sorry for what happened to you,” he said, tears in his eyes.

“It isn’t your fault, Rupert. I’m fine and I’m happy. It’s nice to know that you have someone that makes you happy as well,” Olivia/Jenny said. “She’s wonderful, Rupert. And you’re perfect together. I want you to know that I’m happy for you.”

He returned her smile with one of his own. “That means a lot to me.”

“Buffy and Joyce wanted me to say they’re very proud of you. All of you.”

“B-before you go,” Tara said, her voice stammering. “I-I-Is my mother there with you?”

“Yes, she is.” The woman said, nodding. “And she’s glad you’ve found people to finally make you happy. You deserve it.” She looked at Willow and back to Tara. “And she said to lighten up. She said you would know what she meant.”

Tara looked to Willow and nodded.

“You’re all doing what you should be doing. There’s something dark coming. We don’t know what but it’s coming. Be careful and be watchful and you’ll pull through. It’s what you always do.”

Olivia slumped in the chair and breathed heavily. Everyone released hands and Giles rushed to her side. “Olivia?” He asked, making certain that she was alright.

She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him. Her eyebrow rose. “On the bonnet of a Bobby’s patrol car, Ripper? Twice?” She asked him.

“Bloody hell,” he said, sighing.

The rest of the group chuckling in the background didn’t help one bit.


	12. Chapter 12

 

 

Faith leaned against the side of her Roadrunner with her arms crossed. She looked at her watch and sighed. She heard the scream of the private jet’s engines and watched as the luxury craft touched down on the far side of the runway. She smiled as the plane taxied to a stop near her car. She pushed away from her rig and approached as the side door opened.

Andrew stepped out and looked around the airport. He closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. “Yeah,” he said. “Still smells like a Hellmouth.” He wiped his nose. “And seawater.” He saw Faith standing beside her dark black muscle car and smiled. He trotted down the steps and up to her. “Good evening, Faith,” he said, offering his hand.

She slapped his hand aside and pulled him in for a hug. “It’s good to see you, Andy.” He stood tense for, but a second before he returned the embrace. She ran her hands up and down his back and stepped back to take in his chest and arms. “Jesus, you are  _solid_.”

“Four months of strength training and cardio,” Andrew said. “Philip ran me ragged.”

“It paid off. You look good,” she said, pointing to his face. “The scruff works for you.” She moved around and grabbed his bags, tossing them into the back seat. She then took his trunk and put it in her boot, using bungee cords to strap it down. “What did they tell you about what you’re gonna be doin’?” She asked him.

“That I’m gonna be in charge of the boarding house,” Andrew said. “I’m still a little worried about that, to be honest.”

“Why?” Faith asked as they got into the car.

“I’m not exactly the most intimidating presence out there.” He offered. “I’m afraid none of the girls are going to listen to me.”

“If they don’t, just let me know. I’ll crack heads for you,” Faith said. “You’ve earned your stripes. Yeah, you spent most of your life as a pussy, but you’ve been through the hard shit.” Her expression softened. “You saved a slayer’s life. How many of these wannabe’s can say that?”

He looked her in the eyes. “I’m sorry for being a part of Warren’s crew for as long as I was.”

“Don’t worry about it, Andy. When it was the three of you, it was kinda fun, to be honest. After you got out was when Warren went off the fuckin’ deep end.”

“Have any potentials shown up, yet?” He asked.

“Chloe Hoffman and her mom. Forget the woman’s name. Marie, I think. They moved into the boarding house this afternoon.”

“Sorry I took so long getting here. Had to go through customs at LAX,” Andrew said.

“Yeah, figured it was something like that. You packin’ weapons in the trunk?” Faith asked him. He nodded. “That kinda shit takes a lot of paperwork and explanation. What did you tell ‘em?”

“I was a professional cosplayer,” Andrew said. “And that they were props.”

Faith laughed. “God, that is so you,” she said, shaking her head. “Did they buy it?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?”

“You hungry?” She asked.

“I could eat,” he said, nodding. “I don’t do well flying. I haven’t eaten anything since we left London.”

“Christ, that was what? Twelve hours or some shit?” Faith asked him.

“About that,” he said. “I really don’t like to fly.”

“Just to let you know, we kept your Ranchero. When I learned you were coming back to town, Justine and I went to Los Angeles and picked it up for you. I went ahead and got it painted for you.”

“What did you go with?”

“Well, given that you were a bit of a poof, as Spike would say, I went with a pale lavender,” Faith said, doing her best to sound serious.

“Please tell me you didn’t.” His face belied his horror.

“What’s wrong with that? It looks good, to be honest.”

“I’m supposed to be a Watcher, Faith, not Louie the Lilac,” Andrew said, disappointed.

“Who the hell is Louie the Lilac?” She asked, fighting the smile that was forming.

“Really? Haven’t you ever watched the old Batman series from the sixties?” Andrew asked. “Bam! Pow! Kerzonk!”

“Not if I could help it,” Faith said. “I grew up on reruns of the Animated Series and the Movies.”

“Well, they were better, but the old TV show was fun. That and The Green Hornet. They were both really cheesy, but funny,” Andrew said.

“But yeah, I was just screwin’ with you,” Faith said. “I went nerdy for you. Gave you the Starsky and Hutch look.”

“Red with the white stripe?” He asked, happily.

“Yeah. It looks pretty good, to be honest. It’s an attention getter, believe me.” Faith offered. “Figured you’d dig on that.” She pulled into the parking lot of the diner. “This place work for you?”

“That’s fine,” he said, nodding. They got out and headed inside the restaurant.

“So have you been able to learn anything about the guys that are taking out potentials?” Faith asked as they were seated. She ordered a coke while Andrew asked for a Sprite.

“Nothing concrete,” he said. “I mean, nothing beyond what we already know. They’re faster and stronger than normal humans, but not by much. And despite the fact that they have no eyes, they can see just fine.”

“How many baby slayers have we lost so far?” Faith asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t heard the official numbers yet. A lot, though. Seems like for every two we save, we lose one.”

“Something out there is trying to wipe the slayer line completely out,” Faith said, shaking her head. “Shit’s gettin’ deep and we don’t even know what we’re up against. Who’s pulling these guys’ strings?”

“We’ll figure it out,” Andrew reassured her. “You’ve been through a lot since you were called. And in helping you out, so has everyone else.”

Faith nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

“Normally you’re so gung-ho and all…in your face-y about evil. Now you’re all mopey. Why?”

“Something’s been trying to screw with my head, lately,” Faith said. “Something took the form of Mrs. S and tried making me believe it was her ghost and that she was disappointed with me.”

Andrew immediately harkened back to his training. “Did you feel anything when it was near you? This manifestation?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, ghosts, poltergeists, and spirits carry the aura of death about them. Most normal people can’t feel it, but given the slayer’s proclivity to sense vampires, it would stand to reason that you might feel other beings strongly associated with death.”

Faith looked at him and shook her head. “No. I didn’t really feel anything. But we did learn that it wasn’t Joyce at all. We did a séance and found out that Joyce and Buffy are in heaven together and they’re perfectly happy with what I’ve been doing.” She smiled. “It was nice to know, to be honest.”

“I can’t see anyone being upset with you.” He absently rubbed his stomach. “I know you trained Dawn up just fine.”

Faith grinned at him. “Learned that one the hard way, huh?” She asked him. She was still proud as hell of the younger Summers for what she did.

“What I get for thinking I’m a supervillain,” Andrew said, nodding.

“That’s alright, kiddo. You’re pullin’ for the good guys now,” Faith said. She reached over and took his hand. “You saved my life, Andrew,” she said, staring him in the eye. “That ain’t the kind of thing a girl forgets.”

He sighed and returned her gaze. “That means a lot to me.” The pair ate their food and made their way to the boarding house. “This is a nice place,” he said, nodding.

“Quentin pulled out all the stops,” Faith said. “Top of line everything. We put a lot of time into it making sure it was ready.”

Andrew moved up the stairs and unlocked the front door, stepping into the nice, large living room. “It’s really spacious.” He looked to her. “Where do I sleep?”

“Right through here,” she said, leading him to the only bottom floor bedroom. “You get the smallest room but that’s only because you’re the only one that isn’t sharing with someone.” Faith offered. She pushed the door open and stepped aside.

He looked around and saw that it was tastefully furnished. The bed was a twin and sat nestled against the wall. A writing desk sat beside the bed underneath a window. It had a nice desktop computer on it. He had built-in bookshelves along the wall to the left as well as a moderately sized dresser. He also saw a door to the side of the entrance which led to a small closet. “I can work with this,” he said, nodding.

The sound of feet thundering down the stairs caught their attention. Faith and Andrew both turned to see a pair of ladies regarding them.

“Chloe? Marie?” Faith addressed them, hoping that she got the woman’s name right. “This is Andrew. He’s from the Watcher’s Council.”

Chloe gave him a timid smile, but Marie raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t he a little young?”

“Excellence knows no age, ma’am,” Andrew said. “I’ve been a part of the supernatural world since I was a child. And I’ve faced down vampires before. You and your daughter are safe with me.”

Marie looked at Faith, back to Andrew and to Faith again. “Can I speak with you, please?”

Faith nodded. “Go ahead and get settled. Then we’ll see about getting this place stocked up for some groceries and shit,” Faith said to Andrew.

Chloe followed Andrew into his bedroom, keeping the door open. She was eager to talk to someone that wasn’t her mother.

Faith moved out into the living room and onto the front deck. She sat on the banister and crossed her arms. “What’s up?”

“Is this some kind of a joke?” Marie asked. “Because if it is, it isn’t funny.”

“What are you talking about?” Faith asked her.

“ _He’s_  the best you could do? He’s not even old enough to drink. How is he supposed to keep any of us safe?”

“Whoa,” Faith said. “Calm your shit. Andrew’s a good kid. He’s been through some serious shit. And not to put too fine a point on it, but he’s got a hell of a lot more experience under his belt than you do.”

“I just want someone protecting us that isn’t going to ogle the girls in the house. Why can’t  _you_  stay here with us?”

“You want a list?” Faith asked her. “First, I’m the slayer. I gotta go out on the town and make sure  _everyone_  is safe. Not just you. Second, I have a job. I’m gone eight hours a day and, no offense, but when I come home, the last thing I wanna deal with is a bunch of teen angst bullshit. Third, I made a promise to look after Dawn. I ain’t turning my back on that.” Faith stared the woman down. “Right now there are girls like your daughter getting slaughtered all over the world. The Council and us are doing everything we can. Andrew’s the best choice for this because he knows the Hellmouth. He knows this town. He knows what’s best avoided and what to do when shit hits the fan. That experience is going to be pretty valuable. That and you need someone who can keep the girls in line.”

“And you think he’s gonna be able to do that?” Marie asked.

Faith looked at the woman and motioned to the sidewalk. “There you are.”

“What?” Marie asked her, not understanding.

“The door. You don’t like how we’re handling shit, you’re more than welcome to take your chances on your own. You can always pack your shit and hit the fuckin’ bricks. We’re doing the best we can. This isn’t just about you and your daughter, lady. It’s a fuckin’ war. You can’t dig that, then get the fuck out.”

Marie stared at Faith for a long time. “You’d let us leave, just like that?”

“You ain’t a damn prisoner. You’re a grown ass woman. You can do whatever the hell you want. But I can tell you this. Right now, you’ve got a snowball's chance in hell of making it on your own.”

“I don’t feel comfortable with a boy staying in the same house with a bunch of underage girls.”

Faith shrugged. “Get over it.”

 

Chloe sat on Andrew’s bed with her knees tucked up under her chin and her arms wrapped around her legs. “So you’re from England?” She asked him.

“No. I’m actually from Sunnydale, but I spent the past four months in London,” he said, putting his clothes in the dresser. “I’ve lived in this town my entire life.”

“Were you training to be a Watcher?”

He nodded. “I know four months doesn’t seem like a long time, but Philip – he was the guy that was training me – taught me a lot.”

“What was it like?” She asked him. “Living in London?” She set her head on her knees. “Was it nice?”

“Sometimes. Rains a lot,” Andrew said. “Good television and food, though.”

“I’ve never been out of the country.” She sighed and sniffed. “I’m scared.”

He stopped putting his clothes away and looked at her. “Of what?” He asked her. “Those guys that tried to kill you?”

Chloe nodded. “We barely got away. If not for Macy, we wouldn’t have.”

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you,” Andrew said, looking her in the eyes. “A lot of people, not just you, but a lot of other people are trusting me. I’m not going to put that trust in jeopardy.”

“Aren’t you afraid of what’s coming?” Chloe asked him.

“We don’t really know what  _is_  coming. Once we do, we’ll deal with it,” he said. “Until then, I’m not thinking about it.”

“I wish I had that kind of confidence,” she said to him.

“Have you met Dawn, yet?” Andrew asked.

Chloe shook her head. “I mean, I know she was the last slayer’s little sister, but beyond that…”

“Last year I, I did a bit of time on the wrong side. I was a part of a trio that tried taking over Sunnydale. I mean, we were stupid and were just messing around, but still. I ended up leaving the group because of her.”

“Because of Dawn?”

Andrew nodded. He shared the whole experience with her. “That was when I realized that we weren’t a challenge to Faith at all. Not if Dawn could just walk in, after a few months of training and beat us all down like that. I left Sunnydale after that. I eventually came back because I wanted to make things right. Faith and company took me back and let me help out.”

“Now you’re a Watcher,” Chloe said, smiling. “Sounds like you’ve come a long way.”

“I have. But I’m not a Watcher yet. I’ve still got a lot to learn. It takes years to be a Watcher.”

“Then why come back if you haven’t finished your training?”

“Because I’m needed here. I know enough to be helpful. I can fight, I can research and I know a bit of magic. I can also summon demons.”

Chloe stared at him incredulously. “You can summon demons?”

He nodded. “Me and my brother both could. I’ve been practicing for the past few months and have gotten a lot better at it.”

“Well, thank you for what you’re doing,” Chloe said. “It does make me feel a little better about this whole thing.”

“I’m just hoping the rest of the girls are as nice as you,” Andrew said. “I would hate to have to deal with a really grouchy…”

 

“Son of a _bitch_ ,” Macy said, slowing to a stop. A ten-foot-tall cyclone fence with razor wire along the top stretched off in both directions across the single lane road in front of them. A post with an intercom sat just off the side of the road. “What the hell is this?” She asked, looking around. She looked down at the address and to the satellite navigation system. “This is where it’s telling me to go. What is it, private property or something?”

“Could be,” Kennedy said. “Almost looks military.”

“Maybe we’re supposed to ask to get in,” Gwen said, shrugging.

Macy rolled her eyes and climbed out of the motorhome. Kennedy stepped out with her. The girls walked up to the box. She pushed the green button. “I’m not sure if I’m in the right place or not. I’m looking for Valerie Coe. Is this her address?” She asked.

“Depends.” A woman with a voice thick with southern drawl came back. “Who’s askin’?”

“My name’s Macy Maxwell. I have reason to believe that she might be in danger.”

“What makes you think that?”

“It’s kind of hard to explain. Can I meet with her please?”

“Stay on the road. Don’t pull off until you get to the compound.” The girl returned.

“Compound?” Kennedy asked, quietly.

“Thank you,” Macy said turning back to the RV. The gate squealed as it opened. She pulled ahead slowly. “Jesus Christ,” she said as she drove along. “Look at that.” She pointed to the side. Acres of barbed wire lay a few inches from the ground. “These people aren’t screwing around.”

“What are they? Survivalists or something?” Tammy asked.

“I’ve read that there are a lot of these kinds of people out there,” Kennedy said. “Most of them are just nutjobs.”

Macy looked at her. “We’re potential vampire slayers and we’re being hunted by men with ancient runes burned into their faces where their eyes used to be. In light of that, zombie apocalypse? Not  _that_  hard to swallow anymore.”

“Fair point.” Kennedy conceded. “Personally, I think a zombie apocalypse almost sounds like fun.”

Tammy and Gwen both looked at her in horror. Macy looked at her with a questioning expression. “You ever dealt with a zombie?” Kennedy shook her head. “Trust me, they ain’t like they are in the movies. They’re not slow, ponderous sacks of meat. They’re strong, mean and hungry. And that’s just the husks. If you get a zombie that’s actually still got their wits about them? Then they’re strong, mean, hungry _and_ smart. We dealt with one once. That was enough. They’re a pain in the ass.”

“Did your Watcher actually take you out vampire hunting?” Kennedy asked her.

“Yeah. Since I was thirteen. We only ever took on one vampire at a time, but we fought them. Probably taken out about two, three hundred vamps.” Macy said, shrugging. “That isn’t including ghosts, demons, mummies, golems, and possessions.”

“Holy shit. Where did you live?” Kennedy asked her.

“Maine,” Macy said. “Trust me, there’s a reason Stephen King sets all of his books there. State’s strange as fuck.”

“Oh my god,” Tammy said, pointing. “Look!”

“Holy shit,” Macy said. “They are  _really_  not fucking around.”

“Huh,” Kennedy said, nodding. “Compound.”

“She wasn’t kidding,” Gwen said.

Spread out before them was what could only be described as a complex. It looked more like a collection of warehouses than anything else. The road led up and in between two rows of three corrugated steel buildings. At the end of the drive was a large two-story farmhouse. It looked old and dated, but it was sturdily built. Standing on the porch was a large heavy set man with graying hair, a thick black mustache and salt and pepper beard, heavy on the salt. In his arms was an M-16 with a grenade launcher under the barrel. Beside him stood a girl with long dark auburn hair, serious gray-green eyes, and a thick build. The four potentials could all tell right away that very little of the girl’s girth was fat. Hers was the build you got from day in day out hard backbreaking labor. They all stepped out of the rig and moved up to the porch.

“Y’all said you wanted to talk to me.” The girl said, crossing her muscular arms. “I’m Valerie.”

“This is gonna sound kinda strange.” Macy began. “Have you been having strange dreams lately?”

“From beneath you, it devours?” Valerie asked. “That the dream you’re talking about?” The four of them nodded. “Yeah, I been havin’ ‘em. And I don’t really give a damn what they tell me.”

“You will,” Macy said. “Especially when you find out what’s gonna be comin’ for you.”

Valerie smiled. “Come with me,” she said, stepping off the porch and looked to the elder man. “Have Vi get dinner ready for the girls.” She made her way over to the closest of the warehouses. She removed the heavy padlock and pulled the door open. She moved in and turned on the overhead light. She then pointed to a large shelf against the wall. It was lined with dozens of jars. Each jar had what looked to be a piece leather in it with a symbol branded into it.

It took the girls a moment to realize that it wasn’t leather at all…but human flesh. Tammy turned and booted on the floor. Gwen placed her hand over her mouth, gagging. Kennedy just scrunched her nose and backed away. Macy stepped forward to look at the collection. “Did you take all these guys out?”

Valerie nodded. “Me, my brother and sister.”

“Where’re your folks?” Macy asked.

“Mom died about ten or so years ago of a pill overdose. My Watcher showed up and showed her all the nasty shit was really out there. It spooked her something awful. She committed suicide. Daddy’s in the Pen. Shot a guy trying to steal his truck. Turned out the boy he shot was a cop’s kid. Don’t matter that the sum-bitch had a fuckin’ magnum on him. Dad gave him two barrels and they threw the book at him. Serving eight years. Should be out in two.”

“Who was the old guy with the hardware?” Macy asked.

“That’s Uncle Johnny. He’s a bit off. Took a bullet to the head in Desert Storm and ain’t been right since. Hell of a shot, though. He um, he ain’t retained much and can’t be left alone anymore. But he still remembers how to shoot.”

“So how did all this come about?” Kennedy asked.

“Daddy was a doomsday nut,” Valerie said. “Grandma too. When she moved here from Port Charles with grandpa, they started this whole thing, but daddy was the one that really got it goin’.”

“So who all lives here?” Tammy asked, wiping her mouth.

“Me, my brother, my sister and the few that have shown up thanks to Britt,” Valerie said. “Britt was my Watcher.”

“He get taken out?” Macy asked.

“Two days ago,” Valerie said. “He managed to bring Violet in before he died of his injuries.”

“If you’ve been having the dreams, then so have they,” Macy said. “You know where we need to go.”

Valerie sighed heavily. “Yeah, I know,” she said, shaking her head. “Just don’t like the idea of leaving someplace this secure. We got provisions to last for five years. Water, food clothing.” She shook her head. “Hard to leave all this behind.”

“There’s safety in numbers,” Kennedy said. “We could travel together and look out for each other.”

Valerie nodded. “We been thinkin’ about that ever since the first potentials started showing up. Britt was moving around Montana, Idaho and Utah pickin’ girls up. Vi was the last.” She walked to a different hangar. “Daddy picked this up about fifteen years ago. Been workin’ on it ever since.” She pulled the door back and again flicked on an overhead light.

A large metal-sided MCI-12 Bus sat in the warehouse. For all intents and purposes, it looked completely normal. “It’s a bus,” Macy said, shaking her head.

Valerie smiled and stepped over, pushing the door open. “Take a look inside.”

The four girls climbed in ahead of her. “Holy shit,” Macy said, astonished. The first thing she noticed was that it was decked out for long-term mobility. The center of the floor had been removed and the cargo space opened to form a large depression. Stairs led down and then back up to a rear deck. From base to ceiling in the depression were four bunk beds to a side, complete with curtains for privacy. The entire back quarter of the bus had been converted to a water closet and kitchenette. In front of the beds, there was seating for twelve.

“She’s been armored all along the inside with Kevlar,” Valerie said. “Dad spared no expense. It’s completely hermetically sealed with its own recycler and filters.”

“What’s it got pushing it?” Macy asked.

“Dad and his buddies tore out the old DDC 8V-71 and jammed in a C-12 Cat. She’s pushing about four hundred and ten horses and fifteen hundred foot-pounds of torque. She’s a monster. But there is a problem.” Valerie said, looking a little sheepish.

“What’s the problem?” Kennedy asked. “This thing is a rolling fortress.”

“None of us knows how to drive it.” The girl said, biting her lip.

Macy growled. “I can drive it, but I don’t have a CDL.”

Kennedy thought a moment. “Do you have anything else besides this monstrosity?”

“There’s Uncle Johnny’s old Challenger,” Valerie said. “He can’t drive anymore.”

“What were you thinking?” Macy asked her.

“You ever seen Smokey and the Bandit?” Kennedy asked, grinning.

Both Macy and Valerie chuckled. “Yeah, that shit might have worked in the seventies, but it ain’t that easy anymore.” Val offered. Macy pulled out her cell phone.

“Who are you calling?” Kennedy asked her.

“I’m gonna see about getting us a driver.”

Giles trotted to the phone in his flat as it rang and quickly picked it up. “Yes. Hello?” He took the cordless into the kitchen as he continued cooking.

“Rupert Giles?” A girl’s voice asked.

“Yes. Speaking,” he said. Olivia immediately stepped over and took over the preparation so he was free to speak. He leaned in and kissed her before moving away.

“You don’t know me. My name is Macy Maxwell.”

He perked up. “Yes, Miss Maxwell. I’ve actually heard a great deal about you. What you’ve been doing across the Midwest is very, very commendable. Did you need help? Are you in trouble?”

“Yes and sort of.” Macy offered. “I’m in Roundup, Montana. I’m here with ten other potentials.”

“Oh my lord,” Giles said, wiping his hands. “Did you need help?”

“You already asked that. I said yes. We’re all okay. We’re holed up on a survivalist compound. We’re trying to get to you, but right now we’re kind of stuck. We’ve got what we need to get there, we just need one thing. I called Quentin Travers and he gave me your number. Said you might know someone that has a CDL.”

“A CDL? A truck driving license?” He asked.

“That’s what a CDL is, yes,” Macy said. “You know anybody with one? We’ve got an old Greyhound Bus that’s been turned into an armored war machine that can carry everyone, but none of us have the license for it.” She bit her lip. “I know you all have fuck-ton on your plate right now and don’t need to be rushing to our rescue, but it’s the best thing we got to keep everyone safe for the trip.”

“I understand, Macy. I do happen to know someone close by that can help. I’ll send him up. You said you’re in Roundup, Montana?”

“Yeah. It’s a little spit-ass town in the middle of the Rockies. In the Bull Mountains, to be exact.”

“I’ll see about getting someone there as soon as possible. Can you give me the exact address?” He jotted it down. “We’ll see about getting you some help, just sit tight.”

“Thanks,” Macy said. “We’ll be waiting.”

Giles immediately hung up and called Xander. “Hey, Giles. What’s up?” He asked, happily.

“There are some young girls that desperately need your help,” Giles said, looking at the address.

“That isn’t funny, Giles. I’m a happily married man.” Xander returned.

“What?” Giles asked. “Get your mind out the gutter, Xander. Macy Maxwell just contacted me.”

“Why does that name sound like it should mean something?”

“She’s the potential that’s been giving our rune-eyed friends such a hard time.”

“The Crusading Potential?” Xander asked.

“One and the same,” Giles said. “You have a CDL, don’t you?”

“Yeah, why?” Xander asked. “This is starting to become one of the stranger conversations we’ve had, you know that?”

“Macy and ten other potentials are trapped in the small town of Roundup, Montana. They need someone who has a CDL to drive the bus they’ve commandeered. I could only think of you.”

“I can drive a bus,” Xander said. “But Roundup is like, almost fourteen hundred miles. You’re looking at twenty plus hours. Maybe eighteen if traffic is light.”

“If you were driving, yes. But Tara and Willow can get you there a lot faster.” Giles said grinning. “There is a spell they used on Glory a couple years back…”

“Oh, god,” Xander said. “I’m really not liking where this is going.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

Xander packed a few changes of clothes into the large army duffel. Anya stood staring at him from the bedroom door. “You can’t have sex with any of them,” she said, firmly.

He stopped and looked at her with a look approaching incredulousness. “What?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He thought that for all of about a heartbeat and a half before he realized who he was talking to. He stepped over to her, took her hands, and looked into her eyes. “Anya, honey? Do you trust me?”

She nodded without hesitation. “I do. It’s them I don’t trust. Women are natural born temptresses. And you  _are_  a man. Men are dumb when it comes to women.”

Xander half laughed and half sighed. “I would like to say not all men are like that. I’d really,  _really_  like to say that.” He pulled her in and kissed her. “But  _I_ don’t need to be like that. I have you.”

“When you get back, I’ll let you do that thing you like doing.” She smiled at him. “You remember.”

“Oh, God,” he said, shuddering and smirking in return. “A promise like that would keep a politician honest.”

“I love you,” Anya said, staring into his eyes. “Come back to me. You can leave the girls behind and save yourself if you have to.”

He sighed and kept silent. He would fight tooth and nail for them if he had to. It would be a wasted admission on her, however. If he were honest with himself, it was one thing, possibly the only thing about the woman before him that still truly bothered him. The fact that Anya cared, literally for no one but herself and for him. The world could burn or not, as long as the pair of them were safe.

Self-sacrifice was never something the ex-demon would embrace. That point alone made the pair opposites. He had never run from a fight and he never would.

He pulled her in and kissed her. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Be careful,” she said to him. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” He gathered the duffel and moved to the door. He spared her one last look, gave her a warm smile and left the apartment. He got to the street where Faith waited in her Roadrunner. He tossed his bag into the back seat and settled in.

“I’m surprised she’s actually letting you do this,” she said, as she pulled away from the curb.

“I got the lecture, believe me.” Xander returned. “It’s just gonna be a little awkward.”

“If only you weren’t married, huh?” Faith remarked, grinning.

“They’re all sixteen and seventeen-year-olds, Faith,” Xander said.

“How old do you think I was when you fucked me?” Faith asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I was only seventeen then.” Xander returned. “And I think you got that backwards, there slayer. If I remember correctly you pretty much just chucked me onto the bed and had your way with me.”

“I think it’s safer to say I had  _your_  way with you.” Faith corrected. “But you do make a pretty good point.” She bit her lip. “I’m sorry for throwin’ you out afterward the way I did.”

“You’ve already apologized for that, Faith.” He then thought a moment. “Just out of curiosity, how old  _were_  you when you got to Sunnydale?”

“Fifteen,” Faith said. “It was a couple months before my birthday.”

“I didn’t realize you were that much younger than the rest of us.”

She simply shrugged. “It is what it is.” She chuckled. “You know…I only had sex with one guy after you.”

“Why tell me?” He asked.

“Because your ego is about to get a serious steroid hit.” She looked at him. “You’re the best sex from a dude I’ve ever had.”

Xander stared at her, dumbfounded. He remembered Buffy telling him about the laundry list of men she’d been with. That he was just another notch on her bedpost and nothing more. “You can’t be serious. I was a virgin then.”

She shook her head. “You didn’t move like one. Face it, studly. You ruined me for men. Don’t get me wrong, back there and back then you couldn’t eat pussy for shit but you gave it your best shot and got me off. Credit where it’s due. But when you get goin’ you got stamina from hell.”

“That’s why you’ve pretty much sworn off men,” Xander said. “Who’s the guy? Do I know him?”

Faith nodded. “Yeah. You know him.”

“Who?”

“Spike,” Faith said. “You can go ahead and feel proud. You were better in bed than a hundred and twenty plus-year-old vampire.”

Xander had to admit. That  _did_  make him feel pretty damn good.

Faith fished around in her jacket pocket. “Here,” she said, handing him an envelope.

“What’s this?” He asked her. He opened and saw a prepaid Visa card inside with a statement of some sort.

“Just some cash to ease the trip. There’s twenty grand on it so you can feed the girls and grab a couple of hotel rooms. You can also get gas, shit like that.”

He was going to give her the whole ‘you didn’t have to do that’ spiel but realized that Faith was just being Faith. Given where the newfound wealth she had came from, it was somewhat fitting that she would want to ease the way. Especially since the group the money would be benefitting would be potential slayers. So he simply said “Thanks.”

She nodded as she pulled up to the Magic Box. “The girls have the spell ready,” she said, climbing out. “Just waitin’ on you.”

He nodded and followed her in. Willow and Tara both had ingredients spread out over the table. “Is this the same spell you used on Glory?” He asked as he moved up to the pair.

“V-very similar,” Tara said.

“Except this one is sending you over two thousand miles. It’s a lot farther and more powerful. Thus it’s harder to cast.” Willow offered.

He furrowed his brow. “And what if it goes wrong?”

“W-w-we made you this.” Tara lifted a pendant and handed it to him. “It’s only got one use. You can’t materialize in anything solid but on the off chance we get the elevation of where you appear at wrong, you could materialize in the air. Take it in your hand and say ‘Feather Fall’ and you’ll fall extremely slowly to the ground.”

He smiled and nodded. “You made me a necklace of Feather Fall,” he said, looking at the necklace. “That’s awesome.”

Willow chuckled. “I think we’re ready.” She turned to Tara, who gave her a nod. “Grab your bag and hold on tightly. It’s gonna feel kind of weird.”

“What do you mean weird?” Xander asked.

“From what the Watcher’s Diaries have said, it feels like your getting squeezed about your middle then cored like an apple.” Giles offered him.

“Please tell me you’re kidding,” Xander said.

“I don’t know, Xander. Am I?” The Watcher said, smiling. “Good luck.”

He narrowed his eyes at the man as Tara and Willow began their spell. “You’re an evil man.”

“I know,” Giles said. “I’ve contacted Macy Maxwell.” He lifted a picture and showed him. “That’s her. She’s your contact. She knows you’re coming.”

Xander sighed and nodded. “This is gonna be fun.” He voice dripped with sarcasm.

Tara and Willow both finished the spell by tossing the glittering silver dust over him. The world around him dissolved and blurred. As one environment melted away, another came into focus. He stood on a long narrow blacktop in the middle of a sparsely forested area. He was startled when he saw on both sides of the road what looked to be barbed wire fields. “Damn,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Serious about home security, aren’t they?”

He hefted his bag and began walking toward the buildings in the distance. From what he’d learned, it was a survivalist compound. He walked quickly, wanting nothing more than to get on the road.

Two girls, one he recognized as Macy came toward him. “You Xander?” She asked him.

He nodded. “Last I checked.” He held his hand out to her. “Giles told me a lot about you.”

She took it and smiled back at him. “He said a lot about you, too. Thanks for coming to help us out.” She motioned to the thick-bodied girl beside her. “This is Valerie.”

“Pleasure,” Valerie said, taking Xander’s hand. “Welcome to my compound.”

“Thanks,” Xander said. “So where’s this monster I’m driving?” He asked.

“It’s right over here,” Valerie said. “It’s an old Greyhound. You licensed to drive something that big?”

Xander nodded. “I can drive pretty much anything with a steering wheel. I have to drive a lot of the rigs the construction company owns.”

“Good to know,” Valerie said. She pulled open the huge doors and stepped aside, letting him in. “There she is.”

“Look’s innocent enough,” Xander said, moving around it. He dropped his bag and pulled the engine housing open. “Caterpillar. Nice choice.” He let it down and took his gear inside. “Wow,” he said, looking at the interior. “This is seriously nice.”

“Daddy put a lot of work into it. He was planning for the apocalypse,” Valerie said.

“I can tell. He’s got a lot to be proud of.” Xander remarked. He shoved his bag into an overhead compartment. “So who’s all making the run with us?”

“All the potentials,” Macy said. “Come on. We’ll introduce you around.”

He followed the pair of girls into the large house. His stomach growled as the scent of fried chicken filled his senses. They led him into the dining room where a large group of girls sat about the table. Every one of them turned to look at him. “Girls, this is Xander. He’s our driver. He’s also married and his wife is the jealous type.” Macy offered.

He was introduced around the table to the potentials. A few of them – Annabelle, Molly, Rona, and Violet – were all rescued by Valerie’s Watcher before he was killed. Macy had brought Tammy, Gwen, and Kennedy with her. Dominique, the extremely timid looking petite brunette had arrived after her watcher put her on a bus in Bismarck almost a month ago.

“There’s room if you’re hungry.” Molly offered in a thick cockney accent, scooting her chair over. “Violet always cooks too much anyway.”

“But you’ll notice none of it ever goes to waste,” Violet said. “Aside from Val, I’m the only one that can cook.”

“That’s not true,” Rona said. “I can cook just fine.”

“Using a microwave doesn’t count,” Valerie said. “And what you do to food can’t be considered cooking. Charring the Christ out of it, sure but not cooking.”

“Don’t see you puttin’ in the wrench time,” Rona said, quietly.

“Yeah, fuck you. I’m putting y’all up, I ain’t gonna fuckin’ wait on ya.” The potential said. “‘Sides, you’re all big girls. You  _should_  be able to cook for yourselves. Even spoiled little rich girl over there knows how to cook. And she had a personal chef growing up,” Valerie said, pointing to Kennedy.

Xander watched the group and smiled. It was a lot like him and his friends. He slid in between her and the other British girl, Annabelle. “Well, it looks delicious, Violet. You should be very proud of yourself.”

“Learned how to cook from my grandmother. She and Paula Deen were friends growing up and did a lot of cooking together.” She pointed to the fried chicken and the potato salad. “That’s where these recipes come from.”

“And I gained five pounds just from  _hearing_  that,” Xander said. He took a couple pieces of the chicken and a scoop of the salad. He ate quietly, listening as the girls talked amongst themselves.

After dinner was finished, it was getting dark outside. “Everyone should get a good night’s sleep. We’re leaving at first light. It’s a long drive and I wanna get to it as soon as possible.”

Kennedy looked to Macy. “Can I talk to you for a second?” The redhead rose to her feet. The pair moved out onto the deck. “Do you trust him?”

Macy simply shrugged. “Don’t matter if I trust him or not. He’s the best chance we got of getting down to Sunnydale. Unless you know someone else that can drive that bus legally.”

Kennedy leaned against the railing. “I still think my idea had merit.”

“So do I.” Macy offered. “But not in the way your thinking. Keeping cops off our scent isn’t going to work. But we  _can_  go one better.”

“What do you mean?” Kennedy asked. Macy smiled and pointed over at an old 1978 Dodge Ramcharger. “Valerie said that it tossed a rod. Engine’s shot.”

“Yes, it is,” Macy said. “But the motor in that Challenger is still in good working order. I say we swap out.”

“That’s just sacrilege,” Kennedy said. “That’s a pristine 1970 Dodge Challenger R/T. It’s immaculate. You can’t just tear its heart out like that.”

Macy raised an eyebrow. “It’s a car, Kennedy. And think about it this way. Top speed on that Challenger is what? A shade over a buck fifty? Besides that, we’re not gonna be running all Smokey and the Bandit. What we have to worry about is what we found chasing you. Apparently, these ass-hats know how to drive. So we need something big enough that can duke it out with whatever they come after us in. The guys behind you were in an Eddie Bauer edition Explorer. Yeah, that ain’t really gonna be a problem for the bus, unless they get in close enough to jump onto it. Then we have to engage ‘em on the roof or some shit. Makes for great television but this ain’t an action movie. This is real life and I don’t fancy that shit.”

“So instead of playing offense, we play defense?” Kennedy asked her. She sighed and looked at the rig. “Gonna need a lot of work.”

“Then let’s get started,” Macy said as she bobbed down the stairs and headed for the workshop. The pair were in for a long night and had very little time to get everything done.

 

Daniel stood at the stove in the small downstairs apartment he shared with his fiancé. He flipped the grilled cheese sandwich he was making and nodded at its golden doneness. It was just after one in the morning when he heard the door to the house open and shut quietly. He smiled brightly. He knew it was his love returning from another day of work. He secretly hated that every so often they worked differing shifts. He’d done the day shift today, while Buffy was forced to take closing.

The door atop the stairs opened and creaked closed. He turned to see the beautiful blonde, clad in her red and white striped uniform. She stopped at the foot of the steps and stared at him. For several seconds they gazed at each other. The girl then ran and threw her arms around him. “I missed you,” she said after a long heartfelt kiss.

“Obviously,” he said, turning the stove off. He moved the pan off the burner. “Did you wanna take a shower?”

“Only if you will come in and scrub my…everything.” Buffy returned. She was so upbeat that it bordered on fanatical.

But that was one of the things he loved about her. Buffy was never,  _ever_  in a bad mood. She always seemed to be happy being where she was and doing what she was doing. It kept him in good spirits, despite the dangerous world they lived in.

Just a few nights ago, Buffy and Anya sat in the living room upstairs talking. He stood beside Xander and leaned over to him. “My fiancé is a super-hot demon killing machine. Literally.”

Xander turned to him and nodded. “I know. Known that for a while now.”

“Yeah, I know. But who else can I tell that to?” Daniel asked.

Xander chuckled. “True. My wife’s a thousand-year-old ex-demon that’s tortured more men than Caligula.”

“Yeah but she’s a really hot demon,” Daniel said. He loved being in love. There was no greater feeling in the world to him. He was pulled from his introspection by Buffy.

“What were you thinking about?” She asked him.

“The same thing you’re thinking about.”

“That’s good. But Brain, how are we going to get rubber pants in our size?” She said, grinning.

He laughed and nearly fell over. “God, I love you,” he said, kissing her. “I was actually thinking that we should go in and shower then get some sleep.”

“Well, showering I’ll give you. I smell like deep fried android with extra pickles. But we won’t be going to sleep afterward. I need to lavish you with sex,” Buffy said, turning to pull his arms about her. She then ground her bottom into his groin.

After spending a long time getting clean, the pair fell into bed and proceeded to get very,  _very_  dirty.

As with every time before, Daniel lay flat on his back covered in a sheen of sweat. Being a robot, Buffy didn’t perspire but that was perfectly fine with him. She lay with her head on his shoulder, her leg thrown over his and her finger lazily drawing on his stomach. He wasn’t chiseled in marble but he was in fairly good shape. Given that the pair had sex often multiple times a day, it wasn’t that much of a surprise.

“You worry about me,” Buffybot said, out of the blue.

“What makes you say that?” Daniel returned. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t speaking the truth. He actually did worry about her. Granted, she was one of the strongest and most capable of people he knew but he still worried. He worried for all of them.

“Because you don’t like it when I have to fight.” She looked into his eyes. “You get sad when you see me in combat. Even though I’m built to do it, you don’t like it. That makes you worry.”

“I do worry,” he said. He twirled his finger in her long blonde hair. “But I also know that it doesn’t matter. You only fight when you have to. I know that most of what you endure can be fixed. Unlike real…” He stopped himself. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” She said, looking at him with innocent eyes. “Why are you sorry?”

“I almost said you weren’t real,” Daniel said. “I’m sorry.” He offered again.

“Stop,” she said, putting her finger against his lips. She shook her head. “That may be what you were going to say but from the moment you laid eyes on me, that has never been what you  _meant_.” She moved up and kissed him softly. “When you look at me, you don’t see what everyone else in the house sees. You see a woman. You see a beautiful me. You don’t care that I’m wires and metal and carbon polymers. You just see Buffy. You just see the girl you fell in love with. You treat me like a queen. I never want for anything, need for anything, and desire anything but you.”

“What do you think everyone else in the house sees?” Daniel asked.

“They see an inferior replacement for their friend,” Buffybot said, simply. “They’ll never accept me as anything else but that.” What Daniel heard when the girl spoke was quite possibly the most human thing he’d ever heard. Buffybot’s voice…sounded sad. “I know that I’m not a real girl, Daniel. I can’t lie to myself. Only real people,  _living_  people can deceive themselves into believing what isn’t true. No matter how long I live, no matter how advanced I become…” She shook her head again. “I’ll never be human.”

“Do you think that matters?” Daniel asked her. “To them, do you think that you’re not human matters?”

“Yes, I do. To a point, at least.”

“What about Spike? What about Anya and Faith?” He asked. “None of them are really human. At least they weren’t always.”

“Faith was a girl that was normal until she was called. Spike was a human before he was turned. Anya was a human, became a demon, then was turned back into a human. All of them were normal before-,”

“So what?” Daniel asked. “So what if you were never human?” He pulled her over on top of him. Her weight was rather incredible, given how short she was. But being constructed of metal, for the most part, made her two hundred and seventy-pound girth understandable. “I know you might think that but I really doubt that they see you that way. Don’t get me wrong, when you were first activated, it was for a pretty…unflattering reason.” She bit her lip as she looked at him. “And when Buffy died, they needed to keep people believing in the ideal of her and they used you for that. But now?” He shook his head. “I don’t think they see you that way anymore. They look at you and you know what they see? A friend. They see someone that is willing give everything for the people in this house. They see a sister in arms.”

Buffy smiled at him. “You really do know just what to say, don’t you?”

“Well, you have the whole superhuman powers thing. I have my…ability to hopefully convince you just how much I love you and other, you know…shit.”

She kissed him and giggled. “Sometimes I think about the fact that I’m not human and it bothers me.”

“And that, baby is the most human feeling of all.”

Buffy suddenly got serious. “Do you want children?” She asked him.

“Why are you asking that?” He looked at her. “Can you get pregnant?”

She slowly shook her head. “No.”

“Thank God,” Daniel said, flopping back on the bed.

“So you  _don’t_  want a baby?”

“Not especially,” he said, looking at her. “What prompts you ask?”

“Tonight a mother came in with her two daughters. They were both adorable and really well behaved. I asked her about her kids. She’s been married nine years and had a seven-year-old and a six-year-old. Though it was obvious the girls had different fathers. I thought that odd.”

“Sounds like she wasn’t exactly big on fidelity.” Daniel returned. “Look, if you ever wanted children, we could always adopt. I’m sure there are plenty of children out there that would love to have you as a mom. I don’t think I’d make a very good father but for you, I’d do my damndest.”

“I just…she seemed so happy,” Buffy said.

“Children are a huge responsibility. But truthfully, we’ve got a huge family now. You know Willow, Tara, and Faith would spoil the shit out of them. Dawn and Kit would fuss. So would Anya and Xander. We’d never have a shortage of babysitters and friends to watch out for him or her. Personally, I think a kid would feel really loved in this house.”

She giggled. “Maybe we can talk about it again after we deal with what’s been killing potentials.”

“I’m open to it.” He gripped her bottom and pulled her close. “For now, let’s pretend we’re trying to make one of our own.”

“If I could have children, I’m sure we’d have several by now,” Buffy said, before kissing him intently.

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

Xander lay on the sofa, staring at the ceiling. Despite being somewhat tired and filled with fried chicken and potato salad goodness, he couldn’t sleep. He looked at his watch and saw that it was just after two in the morning. He’d dozed off and on but that was it. He sighed heavily and sat up, rubbing his face. “God, what was I thinking?” He said to himself. He rose to his feet and moved into the kitchen, pulling open the refrigerator. He grabbed a can of soda and popped it open, shutting the fridge door.

He sipped at it and stood at the counter, sighing. He couldn’t help but think about Anya. How he wanted nothing more than to whisk her away from all of the craziness and seek out a life elsewhere. He was tired of the monsters, the prophecies, and the apocalypses. Yes, since becoming friends with Buffy, he’d  _actually_  had to learn the plural of apocalypse. He smiled as he remembered Buffy telling him that Riley said much the same thing.

He finished up his soda and tossed the can in the trash before moving back out to the sofa. He casually looked out the window and stopped. He could see lights on in the workshop a few yards away. He cocked his head and stared a moment. There was shadowy movement within. He quickly pulled his boots on and took a baseball bat – from the many that were kept on hand – out of the broom closet. He headed outside and down toward the building. He could hear the Aerosmith’s  _When the Lightning Strikes_  blasting from the shop.

He crept closer, approaching the door. He eased forward and peeked in through the crack. He raised an eyebrow as he saw the pair.

Macy and Kennedy both stood on either side of an old Dodge SUV working tirelessly. The two of them were covered in grease. Something that, having known Kennedy for all of one night, he never thought he’d see. He pushed the door aside and stepped in.

As one, they turned to regard him. “Sorry, Xander,” Macy said, smiling. “Didn’t mean to wake you up.”

He shook his head as he approached the lifted rig. “Couldn’t sleep. What are you two doing, anyway?” He asked, looking under the hood.

“Kennedy had a good idea the other day,” Macy said. “Just needed a little fine-tuning.”

He inspected the engine and nodded. “What is this, a Hemi?”

Kennedy pointed to the Challenger sitting to the side of the room. “We pulled it out of that.”

Xander followed her indication and grimaced. “Ouch. That’s a nice rig. What did you pull the motor out and put it in this thing for?” He asked.

“When we originally saw that Val had the war machine in there, I thought of doing the whole Smokey and the Bandit routine. Drive a fast car and keep the cops off the bus’s scent while Macy here drove it.” She shook her head. “But the cops aren’t, and probably never were that stupid.”

“Not really, no,” Xander said. “Unless you’re counting Sunnydale PD, then maybe but…”

Kennedy snickered. “That’s just sad.”

“Can be.” Xander returned.

“But when Kennedy first showed up, she was driving her Porsche into the ground trying to get away from a pair of those eyeless weirdoes in an Explorer,” Macy explained, going back to work. “So Ken and I figured we could run blocker in this thing and keep any headhunters we find busy while you and the rest of the potentials concentrate on driving straight through.”

Xander furrowed his brow. “But with how massive and heavily armored the war wagon is, why are you worried about it?” He shook his head. “It’s not like they’re gonna be able to run us off the road.”

“I don’t think you appreciate how crafty these fuckers are,” Macy said.

“They’re more organized than you think.” Kennedy offered. “They’re going at the potentials two and three at a time. They use pack tactics, these guys. I don’t know how they would but I’m fairly certain they know what we’re doing and what we have planned. Chances are good, they’ve got something that can do damage, even to the bus.”

“What? Like a tank or something?” He asked, suddenly fearful.

“Wouldn’t put it past them,” Macy said. “Make yourself useful and fire it up for me.”

He dropped the bat and moved around to the driver’s side. He climbed in and turned the key. The car ticked over but didn’t catch. “Timing’s off.”

Macy nodded and gave it an adjustment. “Try it now.”

Xander again turned the key. The car sounded very much like it wanted to turn but wouldn’t.

Macy sighed and leaned back, wiping her head. “Dammit,” he said, harshly.

Kennedy leaned over and stared at the engine. “What are we missing?” She asked.

Xander stepped out and looked around the shop. He saw the gasoline can and smiled. He snatched it up and walked to the front of the rig. He popped the cap off and sniffed it, before pouring a little into the carburetor. “This should do it,” he said, setting the can aside. He went back around and tried the key once more. After a couple seconds of tick over, the huge Chrysler motor caught. He revved it, letting it growl into the room. “There we go.”

Macy smiled and nodded. “Thanks.”

He gave her a thumbs up. “No problem. What else were you gonna do with it?” He asked her, turning it off.

“Nothing, really,” Kennedy said. “We just need to get the hood and fenders put back on.”

It took until almost six in the morning to get everything reassembled. Xander stood with his arms crossed looking at the monster. “It’s pretty damn big, isn’t it?”

Macy nodded. “With the push bumper on there, we should be able to clear the road for you if anything gets too aggressive.”

Kennedy grinned widely. “I’m just looking forward to getting behind the wheel.”

Xander looked at his watch. “We’d better get in and get cleaned up. I wanna leave pretty soon.”

The girls both nodded and followed him back into the house.

After a breakfast of country fried steak, hashbrowns, and eggs cooked to order – again lovingly provided by Violet – the girls all gathered their meager belongings and piled into the bus. The night before, Valerie had taken her Uncle Johnny to her brother’s apartment in town to make sure that he was taken care of.

Xander strapped himself in and fired up the huge machine. The big diesel roared to life. He mashed the gas, belching black smoke into the sky. “Can’t beat a Caterpillar,” he said, smiling. He turned to look at the girls. They were chatting it up as they took their seats. He reached over and picked up the CB receiver and keyed up. “Alright, girls. We’re ready. You know the route we’re taking, right?”

Kennedy, from her place in the passenger seat, took hold of the mic and responded. “Through town to Highway 87 and onto Highway 12.” Macy gave her a nod.

“Lead the way,” Xander said before hanging up the mic.

Macy put the Dodge in gear and tore out of the workshop, spitting gravel and dirt as she pulled out onto the driveway. The huge bus rumbled out of the garage and picked up speed. A few minutes later, they hit the tarmac.

Valerie leaned out the door and watched the compound disappear in the distance. She let out a heavy sigh and shook her head. “We could have lasted for years.”

Xander nodded. “I know but we’re all gonna be needed.” He turned to look at her as she closed the door. “You know that.”

She nodded in return. “Yeah, I know. Don’t make it any easier to give up your family home, though. I was born here.”

“It’ll still be here,” he said, giving her a smile.

She stared at him and then moved to sit down.  _But will we?_  She asked herself silently.

The group stopped in town and tanked up with fuel. The bus could make the trip on a single tank but the Dodge wasn’t so lucky. At best, the beast was getting eleven miles to the gallon, highway. The only saving grace was that it had a massive fuel tank. Instead of the standard thirty-four-gallon tank, it had a seventy-gallon competition fuel cell. They’d only have to tank up once more between Roundup and Sunnydale.

The miles and hours ticked by. Xander kept his eyes on the road and the speedo. He was clicking along at a reasonable seventy miles an hour. He had to admit, for being as big as it was, the bus was pretty responsive. The Dodge in front of him rumbled like a monster but she looked like shit. The once beautiful two tone silver on black paint had long since faded and bleached. The hood was pitted with rust spots and the body itself was in the early stages of rusting through along the edges. But he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, having inspected the rig himself that it was still in mechanically good order. The transmission, transfer case and suspension were still in almost perfect condition.

From what Valerie had told them, it belonged to her brother before it died. He’d spent a great deal of time and money outfitting it for heavy offroad bashing. He took it out and had his fun before he blew the 318 V-8 that was in it sky high. He parked it in the bushes and left it there. And there it sat for the past two years.

Now it was rumbling along in front of him, having gotten a new lease on life.

It was just after three in the afternoon when the pair of vehicles pulled into the town of Idaho Falls. “Is anyone getting hungry?” He asked the girls. All of them nodded. He grabbed the mike and hit the button. “Start lookin’ for someplace to get some food.”

Kennedy fired up her phone and quickly brought up Google Maps. She sifted through the options. “This looks promising.” She looked to Macy. “North Hi-Way Café. Good menu, reasonable prices, and sizable portions. Reviews are mostly positive.” Macy simply gave her a nod. Kennedy took hold of the mike and let Xander know.

A few minutes later they pulled up to the restaurant. “Great,” Xander said, looking around. “There is no way in hell I’m auguring this beast into that lot.”

Rona stepped up and leaned down. “No shit,” she said in agreement. She looked to the right. “What about over there?” She said, pointing. “Along that street beside that tattoo shop?” She asked him.

He checked it out and nodded. “That should work.” He watched the traffic and quickly cranked the wheel, pulling in alongside the building. “You see any signs about customer parking only or anything like that?”

Rona looked about. “Nope. We should be good.”

He released his seat belt and nodded. “Alright. Let’s get something to eat,” he said, rising to his feet. “Come on, ladies. Let’s keep it orderly and use the buddy system.”

“Funny,” Rona said, trotting down the steps. She waited as the rest of the girls disembarked.

Macy and Kennedy pulled in directly in front of the bus and climbed out. “God, I could eat a horse,” Macy said, rubbing her ass. “You wanna take the next leg?” She asked, looking at Kennedy.

“I could drive for a bit.” She turned to Xander. “Are we gonna find a hotel or did you wanna drive through the night?”

“Well, I don’t wanna have to drive through the night but I also don’t like the idea of splitting up into a bunch of different rooms, either. Safety in numbers,” he said as they began walking across the street. “There’s gotta be another option.”

“We are in camping country,” Valerie said. “We could see about getting a cabin or something like that.”

“We’ll think of something,” Xander said, sighing. “Planning isn’t something that should be done on an empty stomach.”

They entered the restaurant as a group, taking in the interior. It was a small, quaint location that smelled absolutely heavenly. The clientele appeared to be rather rough and tumble. Xander wasn’t necessarily surprised, given where they were. A waitress with ‘Annie’ on her name tag smiled brightly at the party. “If y’all wanna follow me, we’ll see about gettin’ ya sat down.” If she was worried about the size of their group, she didn’t show it. Xander followed the girls as Annie escorted them to a pair of tables. “We’re gonna have to scoot a couple together.” Macy and Kennedy immediately did so, creating enough room for everyone. They took their seats as she put menus down.

“I’ll have a coke, please,” Xander said, looking over the menu. Most of the girls ordered diet soda, iced tea, and water. Macy and Valerie both asked for black coffee, while Kennedy asked after iced water with lemon.

“Priss,” Macy said, looking at the food choices.

“Hick.” Kennedy shot back, the sparkle in her eyes taking any malice the statement may have carried.

Xander chuckled and shook his head. After bringing their drinks, Annie was ready to take their orders. While their drink choices seemed pretty conservative, their meal preferences were anything but. He expected to hear a chorus of salad options but was shocked when all of the girls asked for either burgers, steaks or hearty sandwiches. There wasn’t an order of fat-free anything in the entire mix. It reminded him of Anya. The woman was most definitely  _not_  a dainty eater.

He had to admit, the food was really good. His steak was perfectly cooked and seasoned well, his potatoes were a little heavy on the garlic and butter but they tasted delicious and his broccoli was steamed to perfection. The girls chatted and laughed as they waited for their meals but when the food came, they were stone silent. He was a firm believer that if people talked through their meal, then it couldn’t be that good. When the food rocked, you shut your mouth and enjoyed it. Commentary need not apply.

As he ate, he kept checking around the room. Most of the patrons were the hard-hitting redneck types; complete with Caterpillar, John Deer, and Briggs and Stratton baseball caps. There was enough flannel in the room to carpet a high school gymnasium and all of those eyes were on him and his youthful female entourage. “You girls might wanna pick up the pace a little,” he said as he finished his food. “The sooner we can pay and get out of here the better.”

“Why?” Rona asked. Xander flicked his eyes to a few of the tables. The girl followed his gaze and sighed. “Christ. And I’m a teenage black girl. This is not gonna end well.”

As if on cue, one of the large men, clad in blue and white flannel with a Dale Earnhardt baseball hat moved over to their table, a cup of coffee in his hand.

“Something I can do for you, friend?” Xander asked, doing his best to be polite.

“Couldn’t uh, help but notice that you drove up in that bus over there,” he said, his voice long and rather soft, given his rather sizable girth.

“That’s right,” Xander said. “We’re on our way to California.”

“That’s understandable. The winters up here can get pretty nasty,” he said, smiling. “I was just curious where you’d managed to pick one of those up? I’m coming up on retirement in a couple of years and was thinkin’ that something like that might make a good project for me and the misses. Turn it into an RV. We always wanted to do something like that.”

Xander was amazed. When the big man came over, he expected trouble. Not a pleasant conversation about busses. “I um…” He turned to Valerie. “I don’t know where it came from.”

“Daddy bought it quite a while ago. But if you look online, you can pick ‘em up,” she said to the man. “Six or seven grand for an older eighties model. Ten to twelve if you want something newer.”

“They run good?”

“Most do. The engine in that one was shot but Daddy replaced it with a Cat. She’s a runner now.”

He smiled and nodded. “Thanks. I was just wonderin’.” He tipped his hat. “You ladies and gentleman had a good day, now.” With that, he turned and headed back to his table to continue conversing with his friend.

“That was weird,” Xander said, giving the man a final look. “I expected him to be all ‘we don’t serve yer kind around here’ or something.”

“No shit,” Rona said, quietly.

Dominique rose from the table. “I have to pee,” she said, before moving toward the bathroom.

“Yeah, because we so needed to know you had to piss.” Valerie blurted out.

Xander chuckled. “Maybe we should all hit the head before we leave. We’re gonna be driving for a few more hours.”

Kennedy leaned back and pulled her phone out. She began searching to see what they had as far as accommodations options around them.

Dominique pushed the door of the restroom open to see a large woman with thick knotted arms, short close-cropped brown hair and a pair of intense brown eyes regarding her. She stood at the sink in her bra applying deodorant to her underarms. Her black sleeveless t-shirt sat on the edge of the sink. The pair shared a look. The woman was the shy side of plain and had what could only be described as a perpetual frown on her face. “What’s the matter?” She said, narrowing her eyes. “Ain’t never seen a woman put on deodorant before?”

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t mean to stare,” Dominique said, hurrying into the stall and closing the door. She pulled her pants and undergarments down and dropped to the toilet seat. She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. She heard the other occupant of the restroom put the cap back on her antiperspirant and stuff it into the bag she had sitting on the counter beside her. She slid her shirt back on and proceeded to wash her hands.

Then all hell broke loose.

Dominique screamed in surprise when she heard the window burst inward. “What the fuck?” The massive woman said, her voice filled with anger. “What the hell…what happened to your eyes?”

The potential knew exactly what was happening. She kept her mouth closed and stopped breathing, hopeful that the assailant wouldn’t know she was there.

The sounds of a struggle echoed into the small tiled room. “What the-? Get the fuck off me, you sum-bitch.” The woman growled. “Ow! That’s my fuckin’ arm asshole.” Bodies slammed into the walls as the pair struggled. The sound of a meaty fist smacking into bone and flesh rent the air. A sick  _crack_  came next, followed by the clang of metal hitting the floor.

Dominique saw the wickedly curved blade drop to the tile and slide toward her. She quickly wiped and rose quietly to her feet. She’d just gotten vertical and managed to pull her pants up when the door to the stall exploded inward. She was slammed back against the wall as the cloaked figure was thrown bodily onto her. She looked past the man’s bald head to see the enraged face of the woman staring at the eyeless assassin.

“Come here, fucker.” She gripped the man’s throat and lifted him off the terrified potential and spun completely around, hurling the robed killer through the bathroom door and into the hallway. “What part of ‘ladies room’ don’t you fuckin’ get?”

Everyone in the restaurant started as a man in a cloak flew out of the bathroom to collide with the wall opposite the entrance.

Xander and all the potentials were on their feet in an instant. “What the hell?” He asked, furrowing his brow. “Where’s Dominique?”

“Shit.” Macy snarled, taking off toward the bathroom.

The big woman stepped out of the lavatory and again took hold of the killer’s robe. She drew back her fist and hammered his skull into the wall.

Macy ducked below and behind the woman as she pounded the assassin into paste. “Dominique?” She said, looking around.

The timid girl stepped out of the stall. “He came in through the window,” she said, taking Macy’s hand. “He attacked her.” She pointed to the big woman.

Macy turned to see the woman drop his lifeless body to the ground. She gave a grin. “Dumb son of a bitch.”

Xander watched Macy rush to the bathroom. “Macy!” He shouted. “Dammit.” He added when the girl ignored him. “We have to…” His words were cut off when the windows of the restaurant shattered. A dozen men, all clad in dark robes and carrying curved blades leapt into the eatery, one after another.

Time slowed to a crawl. Several things happened at once. Most of the potentials screamed and clutched each other. Kennedy and Valerie immediately grabbed chairs and attacked the two closest assassins. Xander lifted one of the seats and pulled it apart, arming himself with a pair of two foot long clubs as the wood rained down around his feet.

The patrons of the restaurant did their best to get out of the line of fire. The cloaked figures ignored the diners and went straight at the gathered girls.

Time returned to normal. The wood of Kennedy and Valerie’s makeshift weapons exploded across the men’s bodies, dropping them to the ground. Both girls quickly took the knives and stabbed the men through the chests, ending them in one swift stroke. Now, armed with something more deadly than chair shrapnel, they went on the offensive. Kennedy was lucky enough to take down an assailant that wielded two blades. She spun the knives in her hands and grinned.

She met another head-on. “Come and get me, you son of a bitch.” She snarled. He answered by working his blades in a rapid and brutal fashion. Kennedy was no stranger to armed combat, having been largely raised in a Wushu dojo since she was eight years old. As the man came at her, she was there to meet him. Their blades clanged off of each other in a gossamer fashion. The grin never left her face.

“Holy shit,” Xander said, impressed.

Where Kennedy was finesse and skill, Valerie was anything but. As her attacker engaged, she made a point of ending the fight quickly. His knife came in toward her neck in a flash. She reached up and caught his wrist, holding his arm fast. He was strong. Stronger than a guy his size should have been but she wasn’t about to let him just walk through her. She quickly stabbed him up through the bottom of his chin. Blood sprayed over her hand. She pulled his knife free and drove it into his stomach. He died with a growl. She tore the weapons free and moved back.

Xander for his part, was doing his level best to keep the girls safe. He batted the men across the faces, keeping them from getting close. The clubs cracked against the skulls and ribs of the cloaked assassins, knocking them to the ground. He cast a look back at the girls. Aside from Valerie and Kennedy, they stood transfixed and terrified. He shook his head and returned his attention to the killers.  _These girls are so screwed if this is all they’re capable of_. He thought to himself.

Macy and Dominique emerged from the bathroom to see the room in chaos. “Fuck,” Macy said, immediately running into the fray. Two of the men bore down on the girls. She jumped and tackled both of them to the ground. They went down in a tangle. She drew her fist back and cracked the first of them across the face, knocking him back to the floor as he tried to get to his feet. The second killer attacked with his knife, looking to gut her. Macy rolled to the side, letting the knife bite into the floor just a hair’s breadth from her. She responded by kicking him in the face, throwing back to the carpet.

She kicked herself to her feet and snatched a fork from the table as she did so. As the killers came to their feet, she was again in motion. She buried the flatware into the first assassin’s throat. When he gurgled his last, she pulled the knife free of his hand and was on the second before the first had hit the ground. She spun on her heel, kicking the man’s arm out wide before coming back around to take him across the neck. Blood gushed forth as the body toppled backward to the floor.

“Come on,” Rona said, bucking up. “Let’s get out of here and back to the bus,” she began herding the girls toward the rear of the restaurant. “There’s gotta be an alley in the back.”

The girls did as she instructed. They were far too scared to fight the cloaked animals. Rona stayed behind, making sure everyone got out. Macy, Valerie, Kennedy, and Xander were doing everything they could to keep the killers at bay. She was scared when two of the men peeled off the four combatants and came at her.

Unlike Macy, who’d been training her whole life, Kennedy who’d spent the past eight years with a sword in her hand and Valerie, who’d been raised to fight off the apocalypse, she’d had no training whatsoever. She had nothing to go on but being raised on the streets of Chicago.

As the men bore down on her, that life came rushing back to the surface. When two men with knives came at you on the streets, you had two choices, you ran or you died. She turned and ran.

“Here.” She heard a hard female voice shout. She turned to see a thick-bodied woman with short brown hair toss her a collapsible baton. Rona caught it and immediately expanded it. Now that she was armed, she felt a little better. She slid to a stop and turned, ready to fight.

The huge woman had reached out and grabbed one of the killers and pulled him in. She was now beating him into the floor with her ham-sized fists.

Rona was left with one. The rage of being on the run from them came bubbling to the surface. She snarled and lunged at him. He slashed at her, opening a deep channel along her forearm. Her momentum kept her on course and the pair collided, going to the floor in a tangle. She rolled on top of him and slammed the butt of the asp down into his face as hard and fast as she could. He tried to bring his knife up but she moved aside and planted her foot on his wrist and pushed his hand to the floor. She pinned his arm beneath her boot and continued to crush his skull until he stopped moving.

Kennedy moved like she was trained to. The men were good but she was better. And she didn’t hesitate to prove it. The fighter came in, his blade leading. She jumped sideways and spun, attacking as she flipped past him. Her knives tore apart his robes and etched vicious cuts into his flesh. As she landed she dropped to one knee, dragging both blades across the backs of his legs. As he was going down, she came up and drove her knives down at an angle on both sides of his neck. He twitched and died in a spray of arterial red.

Valerie accepted the slash across the stomach and answered back with a strike to the man’s throat. The knife bit in so deep that it cracked into his spinal column and stuck. She tore it free and stepped back as he fell to the floor.

Macy was just plain pissed off. She was  _so_  tired of dealing with these motherfuckers that it wasn’t even funny. And she took that anger out on the man before her. He came around with his knife. She spun the blade in her hand and rammed it into the crook of his elbow. The steel slid through his arm. She snatched the weapon from his now useless grip and stabbed him where his eye would have been. As he let out a silent scream, she plunged her second knife into his mouth, pushing the curved point out through the back of his head. He shuddered and convulsed but she wasn’t done yet. In a rage, she sidestepped, wrapped her arm around the front of his chest, lifted him into the air and slammed him down, back first on the table. The wood and metal smashed apart beneath his weight.

Xander thudded his clubs into the killer so fast and brutal that the man didn’t have a chance to defend himself. As the robed assassin went down, the experienced hunter beat him into something resembling lumpy salsa.

And just like that, it was over. The patrons had gone. The wait-staff had secluded themselves in the kitchen away from the onslaught. The room was in shambles. Broken furniture, dead bodies, and blood lay everywhere. “Check please,” he said, sighing heavily.

Macy, Kennedy, and Valerie moved about gathering the men’s knives. Xander paid for their meal and left a hefty tip for the mess.

The group was back on the road a while later. Strangely, the police never showed up. It was a small blessing but as he looked back at the scared girls, he realized that he would take it.

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

Faith sat back on the sofa with the phone to her ear. “In broad daylight, huh?” She asked him. “That’s new.”

Xander nodded and realized she couldn’t see him. “Yeah, it is. They’re getting more and more brazen all the time. Maybe setting up the boarding house wasn’t such a good idea.”

Faith sat forward. “Why do you say that?”

“Well, these guys aren’t screwing around. And right now, the only thing protecting the girls is Andrew. He doesn’t fill me with a whole host of confidence. Granted, he’s been training for like, five months but still.”

Faith sighed. “I hear you. But there’s not a lot we can do. Red, T-bear, and Tweed laid down some mojo around the house. These bastards shouldn’t be able to get in. Only people Andrew wants in can get past the barrier. He’s the one it’s keyed to.”

“That’s a comfort, I suppose,” Xander said. “The girls are all okay but it was still freaky. Some of them are a little out of sorts because of it.”

“I can imagine,” Faith said. “Just get here as soon as you can. The sooner these girls are down here and settled in, the better.”

“I hear that,” Xander said. “I’ll talk to you later. We’re staying at a cottage in Utah but after that, it’s a straight run. Not taking any more chances.”

“That’s cool,” Faith said, nodding. “See you when you get here.” She ended the call and leaned back.

Willow came down the stairs and saw Faith on the sofa. “What’s the matter, sweetie?” She asked her girlfriend. “You seem kind of down.”

“Xander and the wannabes ran into some of our eyeless friends in a restaurant up north.” She shook her head. “In broad daylight, Red.”

Willow stopped and stared at her. “That’s new. Mostly they’ve been keeping to the dark.”

Faith nodded. “I know. It’s a first. Xan said it. They’re upping the ante, big time. There’s no telling when they’re gonna start popping up.”

Willow moved over and sat on the sofa beside her. “Don’t worry so much. We’ve been through worse.”

Faith looked at her. “Really?”

“Yeah.” Willow offered, nodding. “When you were doing all your slayers gone wild evil stuff you were more frightening than this.”

Faith stared into Willow’s eyes. “I love you, Willow,” she said, softly. She reached up and caressed the girl’s cheek with her thumb. “I’m sorry for all the horrible shit I did to you. I know I scared you. I know I…” She had to swallow the lump that formed in her throat. “I know holding that knife had to be terrifying but thinking back, I really was trying to protect you. If anyone but me would have found you…” She shuddered at the thought.

Willow couldn’t lie to herself and deny the fear she felt. Back there and back then she really didn’t know if Faith would have cut her throat or not. Now, as she looked back, she would like to  _think_  that Faith would never do such a thing. She’d like to believe the slayer, she really would. But honesty was something Faith treasured over anything else. “I know that if one of his vampire goons would have found me, I would have been killed. I know that.” She bit her lip as she looked into Faith’s eyes. “But I can’t lie to you, Faith. I love you too much to do that to you. Deep, deep down…” She lowered her head, unable to look the slayer in the face. “Part of me doesn’t believe you.”

Faith had to admit she was somewhat hurt by the statement. The Faith of old would have screamed and lashed out. But the Faith of old was dead. She died the night she chose to go to prison and pay for what she’d done. The Faith of now reached out and gently placed her hand on Willow’s chin and lifted her head to look the witch in the eye. “It’s okay, Red,” she said, giving her a warm loving smile. “I was in a really,  _really_  dark place then. I would be lying if I said there wasn’t still a small part of the darkness still inside me. I suspect it’ll always be there. But I need it as a reminder.” She pulled the girl in and kissed her softly at first, then with growing intensity. As a small moan escaped Willow’s lips, Faith pulled back. “I need to be reminded of what that inner blackness can cost me.”

Willow kept her eyes closed for a moment, then opened them as Faith was talking. She honestly didn’t hear a word the slayer had said. “What?” She asked, absently.

“I was trying to have a heart to heart with you, Red,” Faith said, chuckling.

Willow pushed Faith back on the sofa and straddled her lap. “Then I think we should stop talking, don’t you?”

“What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” Faith said, running her hands along the redhead’s slim denim-clad thighs.

Willow snapped her fingers. Faith’s hands immediately flew up and her fingers interlaced behind her head. She couldn’t move her arms. Willow noted the slight flash of panic in Faith’s eyes. “Three and a half years ago, you held me at your mercy,” Willow said as she stared into Faith’s trembling brown eyes. “Now turnabout is fair play, don’t you think?” She leaned down and kissed the slayer’s lips. Faith’s fear disappeared behind the power of the girl’s kiss.

She realized that, as Willow began to do as she would… “I trust you, Red.”

Willow looked at Faith and gave her a bright sparkling smile. “That’s got to be the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Faith saw Willow’s tears and couldn’t help but become misty-eyed herself. “You can do what you want to me, Red.” She let out a strangled sob. “You can even…you can hurt me if you want to. I deserve it for what I did to you.”

Willow slowly moved her hands downward. “I’d much rather do this instead. There’s been enough pain and fear between us.” She released Faith’s hands. “I prefer to just love you without reservation and to have you do the same to me.”

Faith rose from the sofa, holding the perky girl where she was. Willow wrapped her legs around Faith’s waist. The pair adjourned to the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind them.

 

Andrew stared into Marie’s eyes and shook his head. The woman was so incredibly stubborn. “Haven’t we already been over this? He looked after you both when you were at the hotel. Besides, what part of ‘he’s a good guy’ do you not get?” He asked, incredulously.

“I don’t care,” Marie said, standing arms akimbo. “He’s a vampire. Now that we have you, Faith and all the rest, I don’t want him near my daughter. I don’t care how good he’s supposed to be.”

“He’s literally saved this city, Marie. He’s a hero.”

“How many people did he kill before he became that hero?” She asked. “Tell me that.” She didn’t even give him a chance to answer. “You can’t, can you? I’ve talked to Mr. Giles. He told me that he got his name because he used to torture people with railroad spikes. That’s not the kind of man I want around Chloe.”

Justine couldn’t keep quiet anymore. “What,  _exactly_  do you think he’s gonna do? Bite her? Turn her?”

“I don’t know what he’ll do. And that’s my problem,” Marie said to her. “And as someone who’s  _fucking_  a vampire, I don’t really think you have anything-,”

Justine slapped her hand over Marie’s mouth. “Stop talking. You keep going with that statement and Chloe here is gonna have to watch her mother get her ass kicked.” Justine raised an eyebrow. “Say what you want but don’t get down on our relationship, okay? That’s not a topic of conversation you get to explore, deal?” The woman glared at her. “I don’t see you agreeing.” Marie gave a slight nod. Justine removed her had. “Thank you.”

“The simple fact is I get to control who comes near my daughter. And Spike is not going to set foot in this building. That’s the end of it.”

Andrew sighed and massaged the bridge of his nose. “Okay, you know what? I’ve tried being reasonable.” He’d been working on it for months in front of a mirror. Now it was time to see if his practice had paid off. He unleashed his own thousand-yard stare. Marie looked into his eyes…and was taken aback. “I’m done being reasonable, Miss Hoffman. You came to Sunnydale for protection.  _You_  came to  _us_. The way I see it, you have two choices. You either shut your  _God damn_  mouth and let us protect you…” He pointed to the front door of the boarding house. “Or get the hell out and take your chances on your own. There is no third choice. We’re a team in Sunnydale, Marie. And Spike is an integral part of that team. That means he has access, pure and simple. He hasn’t got interest one in you or Chloe. He’s here to protect you, not bite you or any of that crap.” He stepped forward. “This is what it boils down to, Miss Hoffman. If Spike isn’t good enough to protect your daughter, then none of us are. We’re all flawed. We’re all far from perfect.” He stared into her eyes. “Make your choice. I’m a busy man and have work to do.”

“I don’t mind Spike, mom.” Chloe offered softly.

“Would you? Would you just throw us out?” Marie asked. Andrew didn’t answer. He simply looked at Justine. The girl nodded and reached over, taking a handful of Marie’s hair and began dragging her to the door. “Let me go, you bitch!” Marie screamed. “Chloe, help me.”

The girl was conflicted. “Please, let her go,” she said, turning to Andrew. “She’s just scared. This is all really new to her.”

“Justine,” Andrew said, his voice sharp. The redhead stopped and let the woman go.

Marie turned and drew back to slap Justine. Her hand ceased immediately when she felt the cold steel of the hunter’s large knife resting against the side of her neck. “I fight vampires and monsters professionally, lady. Please don’t do anything stupid.”

Marie lowered her hand and looked at Andrew. “I’m gonna say this now, as God as my witness. If he comes at me or my daughter, I’ll kill him.”

Andrew gave the woman a nod. “Fair enough. But the same goes for you. If you let your fear get the better of you and you try to take him out in his sleep?” He looked to Justine and back to her. “That knife doesn’t stop. Am I understood, Miss Hoffman?”

Marie looked at Justine. “Can you? Can you just cut my throat?”

“Lady?” Justine said, closing the distance and lifting the knife up so the woman could see it. “I’d cut you from navel to neck…and sleep like a baby after.”

“So you’re just as bad a monster as Spike is,  _was_ ,” Marie said, sharply.

“You’re God damn right I am,” Justine said. “And you better be thankful every fuckin’ day for it. Because what’s coming after you and your baby girl is scary.” She grinned like a skull. “I’m scarier.” She spun the blade in her hand and replaced it behind her back. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go home and fuck the shit out of my evil bloodsucking demon possessed boyfriend.” She turned and left the house.

Marie watched her leave and turned to Andrew. “I don’t like her.”

“You’re not required to. Just know that she’s here to keep you safe.” Andrew offered, heading to the kitchen.

“She’s a normal human girl, isn’t she?” Marie asked as she and Chloe followed him.

“She’s a human, yes. But Justine Cooper is as far from normal as you can get.”

Chloe turned back to the door as she heard the girl’s Chevelle fire up and tear away. “I like her,” she said, smiling.

Marie cast a worried glance at her daughter.

 

Daniel sat on the sofa, folding the laundry. He thought as he worked. He looked at the men he was surrounded by. Xander, Spike, and Giles were all manly men. None of them were quite as… _domesticated_  as he was. Even Andrew, after having spent several months under the tutelage of the Watcher’s Council – while not a Marine – was definitely born again hard.

He wasn’t a fighting man. Throughout his life, he was never the biggest or the fastest or the toughest. He was just… _there_. He was in the background. He never did anything to stand out. He never wanted to. He’d always just wanted to do his own thing. All through school he did just that. He was one of the few people in the town that knew about the bizarre shit that went down. He just never had the courage to do anything about it.

He never wanted to get involved. He sighed and looked around the basement apartment. Now he was involved as it got. He didn’t go out and fight monsters but he did help out. He would cook and clean when the others were too messed up to do so. He would help bandage people up when they got hurt. He would even help with research as best as he was able.

He was a part of the world, whether he liked it or not.

He turned to see Buffy standing at the foot of the stairs, looking at him. Her eyes were sullen and she looked on the verge of tears. “What happened?” He set the shirt he was folding and rose to his feet.

“I talked with Spike,” Buffy said, shaking her head. “He said the two of you were talking about me.” She backed away as he came closer. “He said you said mean things.”

Daniel furrowed his brow. “Spike and I never talked about you.”

“That isn’t what he said. He said that you told him I was disgusting. That you think I’m just a fuck toy. He said that you’ve had sex with multiple women beside me since we’ve been together.”

Daniel looked at her and rushed to hug her. She quickly moved out of his reach. “Don’t,” she said, hugging her arms to her. “Don’t touch me.” She shook her head and began crying. “I don’t want you touching me ever again,” she said.

“I love you, dammit,” he said, angrily. “I would never say something like that. If I didn’t love you, if I thought you were any of those things, I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me, would I have?”

“Just get out,” Buffy said, her voice soft. “Just get the hell out. I don’t want you here.” She moved over to their bed. “Just go.”

He stood for a moment, staring at her. “You can’t mean that.”

“Get out!” She screamed at him.

Daniel lowered his head and moved to the stairs. “I’m sorry,” he said, before heading up. As he opened the door to the kitchen and closed it, he missed the wide predatory grin across the blonde slayer’s face.

“Well don’t you look right pitiful,” Spike said as Daniel emerged from the basement.

“You son of a bitch,” Daniel said, angrily. He wanted nothing more than to punch the vampire’s lights out but didn’t for a second believe himself capable of it. Spike, for all of his good-guy actions at present, wasn’t above defending himself and giving Daniel a very, very sound thrashing. “Why would you say those things to Buffy?”

Spike chuckled and leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. “Because I don’t like seein’ the pair of you together. She’s a robot, mate. She’s built for one thing only. She was built to be happy and make me happy. Glinda’s since removed that little bit of programming. Robo slayer’s got the choice of who she wants to shag and how often.” He snarled and glared at him. “And seeing her with you…she’s happier than she ever was with me. That don’t sit well with me. You ain’t good enough for her.”

“You’re still in love with her,” Daniel said, narrowing his eyes. “I thought you said you didn’t want anything to do with her. At least in that way.”

“I don’t. But that don’t mean I want you messin’ about with my old toys,” Spike said. “She should have someone that can protect her. You don’t qualify.”

“So you lied to her to get her to throw me away?” Daniel asked, his voice quivering. Spike nodded. “You evil fucking bastard.”

Spike grinned. “Just because I have a soul doesn’t mean I’m a poof. I’m still a hundred and thirty-year-old vampire. And old habits do die hard.”

“I should kill you for what you did.”

Spike laughed and turned away. “As if you could.” He disappeared around the corner.

Daniel leaned against the island and began to cry.

“What’s got your knickers in a twist, mate?” Spike asked as he came into the kitchen. “You look like someone just ate your hamster.”

Daniel lifted his eyes and stared at the vampire. He didn’t say a word. He suddenly lunged at the British native with a butcher knife he took from the block.

“Bloody hell,” Spike said before the younger man slammed into him. The large knife sank into Spike’s chest, just left of center. He could feel the stainless steel kiss his heart. He was very, very thankful that, being a vampire, the knife wouldn’t kill him. But with the ferocity of the boy, he knew full well if Daniel were holding a stake instead of a butcher knife, he’d be on the floor of the kitchen in a pile of fine ashen dust. Ignoring the pain, he gripped Daniel’s arms and held him fast. “What in the bloody hell are you doing?”

“You cost me the woman I love you motherfucker!” Daniel screamed.

Spike pulled Daniel into the living room and bodily threw him onto the sofa. The ruckus brought Faith, clad in a tank top and her panties down the stairs. “What the fuck are you two doing?” She asked.

Spike stepped back. The handle of the butcher knife was still sticking out of his chest. Faith moved over and ripped it free. “Sodding hell!” Spike said, hissing and backing away.

“What the hell happened?” She asked, looking back and forth. “You,” she said, pointing the knife at Daniel. “Start talking.”

“Spike lied to Buffy. He told her that I thought she was disgusting and a gross second had sex toy. That I didn’t give a damn about her.” Daniel was crying now. “He said I didn’t love her. She threw me out.”

Faith looked at him. “What? Double B threw you out?” She looked at the clock. “Isn’t she at work?”

“She came downstairs. She was crying.” He looked at Spike. “She said that you told her about a conversation we supposedly had.”

“I have no bloody idea what you’re talking about,” Spike said. “We’ve never talked about her. I’ve been going to great lengths to avoid the topic full stop.”

“Oh, stop fuckin’ lying.” Daniel snapped. “You told me yourself that you hated seeing us together. It pisses you off that even though she was programmed to be happy with you – now that she’s free of that same programming – she’s happier being with me.”

“Believe me, that does get my goat a touch…” Spike admitted. “I’ve never said anything of the sort to you.”

“Bullshit. You just said that in the kitchen not ten minutes ago,” Daniel said. “Lying fuck.”

“Watch it, you little ponce,” Spike said, stepping forward. “Soul or no, I will beat the hell out of you if you push me.”

Willow came down the stairs a moment later. “What’s going on?”

Faith moved over to the phone. She handed it to Daniel. “Call the Doublemeat Palace. Ask if Buffy is still there.”

Daniel narrowed his eyes. “She came home and…”

“Just do it,” Faith said. “I’m not askin’.”

He sighed and did as he was told. “Doublemeat Palace, this is Buffy Summers, how may I help you?”

“B-Buffy?” He asked, his voice cracking.

“Daniel!” She said excitedly. She was immediately concerned. “You sound as if you’ve been crying. What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

He couldn’t speak for a long moment. “Just out of curiosity you weren’t um…you didn’t come home quickly about twenty minutes ago, did you?”

“No. I’ve been here all afternoon. I am on surveillance cameras if you would like to come to the restaurant and see for yourself,” she said, matter of fact. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you. I love you,” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

“I love you, too Daniel. What’s the matter? Why are you crying?” She asked him. “Please love. Tell me.”

“Nothing. There’s nothing wrong, Buffy. Everything’s right,” he said, wiping his tears and smiling. “I don’t care that you’re a robot. You know and believe that, don’t you?”

“Of course I know. And you show me every night that you don’t care that I’m… _special_.” Buffybot had to watch what she said in the company of her other employees. She was sometimes called ‘The Machine’ but she knew full well that it had nothing to do with her status as an android and more to do with her work ethic.

“I just…I had a moment of doubt. But you’d taken care of that.” He sniffed and wiped his eyes. “I’ll see you when you get home, okay? Please come straight home. I need to hold you.”

“I can come home now if you’d like. Dawn is here. She can close the store down.”

Daniel bit his lip. “Please,” he said. His voice was so quiet that he wasn’t sure she could hear him.

“I’ll be home in twenty minutes,” Buffy said, softly. “I love you, Daniel.”

“I love you too, Buffy,” he said, ending the call. He sat with his head in his hands and wept.

“That’s what I thought,” Faith said. She looked to Spike. “Remember me telling you that I saw Joyce?” He nodded. “I think our ghost impersonator is upping the ante. You’re dead. And Buffy died, too.” She knelt and took Daniel’s hands. “Whoever, whatever this thing is that’s fucking with us just tried to get into your head. Double B looks just like Buffy. She can use that against you.”

Willow looked at Daniel. “Got a question for you,” she said, smiling. “How do you think Buffybot would look with brown or red hair?”

He stared at her not understanding. But Faith, on the other hand, got it immediately. “B was a natural blonde.” The slayer said, smiling. “Good lookin’ out, Red.”

 


	16. Chapter 16

Daniel paced back and forth across the living room. Faith sat on the sofa with Willow seated on the arm, leaning over to rest her shoulder against her girlfriend. Dawn was seated beside Faith with her legs stretched out and her feet on the coffee table. Kit was curled up beside her snuggling close. The foursome watched him and couldn’t help but share a chuckle. The boy was beside himself. Given the emotional rollercoaster he’d just been taken on, they couldn’t really blame him. “Buffy toyed with the idea of being a redhead once.” Dawn offered as she sat with her hands clasped in Kit’s. “Lasted all of about a week and a half. She died her hair back after that.”

Faith looked at her. “B as a redhead?” She shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Being a redhead is a serious commitment,” Willow said with a smirk. “Best leave it to the professionals.”

Faith laughed and turned toward her. “Red, you are so far from the typical redhead it isn’t even funny.”

“Hey, I can be plenty fiery when I have to be.” The bubbly witch offered. “I think earlier this afternoon was a perfect example of that, personally.”

Faith shot in and kissed her. “Too true,” she said, smiling.

Tara chose that moment to come down the stairs. “We’re all done,” she said gently. “Daniel? Why don’t you c-close your eyes.” He let out a breath and did as the Wiccan suggested. “Buffy? You can come down.”

The robot descended the stairs. She looked at her fiancé to see his eyes closed.

“Damn, Double B. Lookin’ good,” Faith said.

“She’s right, you look really pretty,” Dawn said.

Buffy moved over to stand in front of him. “You can open your eyes, sweetie,” she said, taking his hands.

Daniel opened them to gaze at his love. His eyes trailed up and down her form. Her legs were sheathed in the pair of red leather pants that he’d always fancied. Her pert chest was clad in a black tank top with red lace borders but it was her hair that caught his attention. Her thick blonde locks were gone, replaced by a head of dark,  _dark_  brown hair. Her eyebrows matched as well. “I…”

She gave him an innocent smile. “What do you think?” She asked him, cocking her head just so. “Do you like it?”

He immediately threw his arms around her and pulled her in for a spine-numbing kiss. Buffy’s petite arms embraced him and held him tight.

Tara crossed her arms and nodded. “I guess that answers that.”

The front window of the house crashing in stole everyone’s attention, throwing glass over the girls seated on the sofa.

A group of several eyeless attackers plunged through to the front room.

Time slowed to a crawl. Faith dove from the sofa throwing her body over Willow as the pair hit the carpet.

Buffybot shoved Daniel back behind the recliner and spun, gripping Tara’s arm and throwing her toward the kitchen bodily. The blonde Wiccan hit the floor hard but rolled with it to keep from being seriously hurt.

Kit ducked down lower on the couch as Dawn quickly shot her leg up, catching one of the killers in the leg, causing him to tumble ass over applecart onto the coffee table. The wooden surface blasted apart as he dropped.

Time returned to normal.

The fighters in the room were on their feet, ready for action. “D, get Kit and Daniel out of here!” Faith shouted.

Dawn grabbed Kit’s hand and dragged her to her feet. “Let’s go, baby,” she said, running for the kitchen. She stopped and gripped Daniel’s sleeve and hauled him up. “You too.”

A total of seven robed assassins came in through the window. Faith was the first to engage. The man snatched a pair of knives from his belt and whirled them about in a skilled display. Faith kicked him in the chest, hurling him back against the wall. He impacted hard and staggered forward. She spun, catching him across the face with a reverse heel kick that flipped him up into the air and down to the hard floor. She quickly stomped on his skull, crushing it like an overripe melon. She knelt and lifted the knives, smiling. “ _That’s_  what I’m talkin’ about.”

Another killer came in, likewise with his knives spinning. Faith met him head-on. The blades sparked and rang off of each other as they met. The slayer proved to be far,  _far_  faster than the hooded man and quickly cut him apart. He fell to the ground dead a handful of heartbeats later. Faith didn’t waste time on a quip. Instead, she threw herself bodily at yet, another of the cloaked assassins.

Buffybot giggled as she engaged her attacker. His blade came in, looking to open her neck. She caught his wrist and bent his arm, ramming his own blade into his own throat. “Put down that chainsaw and listen to me, it’s time for us to join in the fight.” She grabbed his arm and spun, using his limp form as a club, slamming him into another of the intruders. The pair went down in a tumble. “It’s time to let your babies grow up to be cowboys, it’s time to let the bedbugs bite.” She reached for the prone form of the second attacker but stopped when she felt the dagger enter her back.

She turned quickly, wrenching the blade free of the unseen fighter’s grip. Her fist caught him across the face, blasting his head to the side. She then latched her small hand around his neck and lifted him from the floor. “You better put all your eggs in one basket, you better count your chickens before they hatch.” She again spun and slammed him down onto the floor as hard as her robotic frame would allow. He impacted with a sick, wet  _crunch_. He stopped moving. “You better sell some wine before its time, you better find yourself an itch to scratch.”

Faith rammed one of her knives into the killer’s chest and dragged the other across his throat. She staggered back, breathing heavily. “For God’s sake, B, pick something a little more appropriate. I don’t think Weird Al is the way to go,” she said before another of the men came in.

Buffy gave a sharp nod. “Any requests?”

Dawn rushed by, snatching the knife from the robot’s back. “Something upbeat.” The teen said as she trotted into the kitchen.

“Well it’s midnight, damn right, we’re wound up too tight.” Buffy offered, punching another adversary across the face. “I’ve got a fist full of whiskey, the bottle just bit me.” She took hold of his lapels and spun, hurling him across the living room toward Faith.

The slayer sidestepped, ramming her blade into his stomach. She was grinning widely as she looked back at the android. “Oh, that shit makes me bat shit crazy.” Faith sang, happily.

The pair fell in back to back, ready for the next wave of killers. “We’ve got no fear, no doubt, all in balls out!” They said in unison grinning madly.

 

Justine lay on the bed, her sweat soaked hair laying across Spike’s lean, muscular shoulder. Not for the first time, she reveled in the feel of the man beneath her. She lifted her head and looked at him.

Spike met her eyes and was content to stare at her. He took a drag off the cigarette he was smoking and pulled it from his lips, blowing the smoke out. He handed it to her, giving her smirk. “You look like a girl in love, doll,” he said to her.

She chuckled and took the smoke, likewise taking a drag. “Can’t imagine why,” she said, coyly. “Might be the sexy vampire I keep finding in my bed.”

“What can I say? I know a good thing when it comes my way,” Spike said to her.

She stubbed the cigarette out into the ashtray beside the bed and climbed up, straddling his washboard stomach.

“Thought you were giving up smokin’,” Spike said, looking over at the ashtray.

“Just when I’m at work.” She responded.

He smiled at her. “I love you, Justine.”

“I gathered that,” she said, leaning down to kiss him. “Love you, too Spike.”

“You’d never consider just calling me William, would you?” He asked her.

“Do you want me to?” She returned. “More to the point, is that really who you are anymore?”

“Suspect not,” he said, chuckling. “I’ve been Spike for so long I don’t really remember much else.”

“Good. Cause frankly, William sounds like he was a bit of a pussy,” Justine said.

“I was a bit of a ponce, it has to be said.” He offered.

Both of them started when they heard the crash emanate from downstairs. “What the bloody hell?” Spike asked sharply, sitting up. Justine rolled off of him and to her feet.

The pair were up and pulling on their clothes when the window of the room shattered inward.

Spike reacted on instinct. The cloaked killer landed lightly on his feet and rushed toward the blonde vampire. Spike broke into a run, slamming his arm into the man’s neck and upper chest. The assassin flipped up into the air as the clothesline impacted solidly. As the attacker was airborne, Spike brutally hammer-fisted him to the ground with enough force to crack the boards. The man didn’t get up.

Another assailant came into the room through the broken window. He died quickly as Justine snatched her knife from the sheath hanging from the head of the bed and hurled it. The long blade drove itself hilt-deep into the killer’s bleached skull between the runes that had once been his eyes.

Spike saw the handle of the blade sticking out of the assassin’s face and turned to his girlfriend. “Nice throw, love.”

She grinned at him. “I know.” She coolly strode over and pulled the knife free. “Was wondering when these assholes were gonna make a try for us.”

Spike stepped in beside her. “Same here.”

“We should head downstairs,” she said, wiping the weapon off on one of their cloaks.

Spike knelt and pulled a pair of daggers from one of the men. He quickly drew the knives across their necks. “Just being careful,” he said by way of explanation.

 

Willow eyed the killer dangerously as he spun his blades, looking to take her down. She quickly collected the magical energy within herself and looked at him as he came forward. “Da Mae Hiim,” she said, letting the power flow over herself. She felt the sorcery working. “Come and get me,” she said, smiling.

The assassin did just that. His knife was raised for a killing blow. Willow stepped in and caught his wrist, holding his arm fast. She immediately caught the second strike as he tried stabbing her with his second blade. She quickly put a boot into his stomach with all the strength she had. His legs were lifted from the floor by the blow. She chuckled and turned, hurling the surprised henchman across the living room to crash into the banister against the stairs. She staggered and fell to her knees, overwhelmed by the strength. “Neat,” she said, happily.

Faith watched the display and was flabbergasted. “Damn, Red. What the hell kind of spell was that?” She sidestepped an attack and brought her knife in, gutting the killer where he stood.

“She used magic to infuse her being,” Buffybot said as she punched the assassin in the gut, doubling him over. She wrapped her arm about his neck and gripped his cloak at the waist. She lifted him vertically before falling backward, slamming him to the ground. She kicked herself to her feet and crushing his skull with her boot. “It was rather effective, I would admit.”

Tara, for her part, was worried for her redheaded lover. “That kind of m-magic could kill you, Willow,” she said, sharply. She lifted her hand and caught the minion coming at her in midstride with her own power. She held him there a moment before clenching her fist. His body cracked and ground as it was crushed by her magic. She cast him aside and walked over to Willow. “You should be more careful.”

“It worked. I’m fine.” The redhead said.

Tara saw the black tinge of the witch’s hair and the darkness of her eyes. “Yes it did,” Tara said. She knew what was happening, even if Willow didn’t. Faith was right in suggesting that magic, in and of itself, wasn’t inherently good or bad, light or dark. But by opening herself to the power as Willow had, she was allowing the dark energy of the Hellmouth itself to ride shotgun. And unless constant vigilance was maintained, one could be corrupted by it. “Now let it go. You don’t have to open yourself up like this.”

“I’m not afraid of-,” Willow began.

“Stop,” Tara said, softly. “Please, Willow. Look inside yourself. You’ll see it.”

Willow huffed and did as Tara suggested. She immediately understood. The sickly sweet scent of the Hellmouth was slowly filling her. She cut off the connection with the spell quickly. Her hair returned to its bright, vibrant redness. Her eyes again became the emerald green that Tara had found so captivating. “I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said to her girlfriend. “I didn’t realize.”

Tara leaned down and gave her a kiss. “That’s alright. You understand now. That’s what’s important.” She rose to her feet and lifted Willow with her. “Now let’s help our friends.”

“Lots of booty to kick,” Willow said, nodding. The girls interlaced their fingers and went to work.

Dawn led Daniel and Kit into the kitchen and to the basement. She got the door open when the kitchen entrance exploded inward. “Get downstairs,” she said, turning to meet the newest attacker.

The killer had a long pole in his hands. He went at Dawn without hesitation. For more than a year, the young Summers girl had been training tirelessly with two of the most gifted fighters on the planet. Both Faith and Giles had seen fit to pass on everything they knew. And because of that…Dawn wasn’t afraid. “I am so gonna enjoy this,” she said, angrily.

He came in, his staff arcing toward her head. Dawn lifted the blade and blocked the strike. The wood made a  _chock_  sound as Dawn’s knife bit into it. She lashed out with a hard kick to his stomach, forcing him backward. He was forced to release the hold on his staff.

Dawn pulled the knife free of the wood and slid it into her belt. She then held the staff in front of her. She brought it down and broke it in half over her knee. She then spun the pair of clubs in her hands. “Time for round two, shit head.”

The assassin pulled a pair of knives from his cloak. He said nothing but came at her without mercy. Thanks to her training, she was more than capable of keeping his attacks at bay. The pair moved about the room, trading blows. The steel knives of her attacker cracked into the twin batons she was using.

Dawn suddenly hissed as one of the blades cut across her forearm, drawing a bloody channel in her flesh. She backpedaled and bumped into the counter. The assassin came in, both blades lifted for a killing strike. She brought up her clubs in an X over her head, blocking the strike. She felt pain in her ribs as her assailant drove his knee into her abdomen. The wind blasted out of the teen’s lean form. Her vision swam.

The killer wasted no time and drew back to stab her. He never got the chance as the heavy iron skillet slammed down upon the back of his head with a loud  _clang_. He fell forward onto Dawn and slid bonelessly to the floor. Dawn looked to see Kit standing before her, pale-faced and trembling with a frying pan clutched tightly in her hands. Dawn dropped to her knees and snatched the knife from her belt and plunged it into his skull. She ripped it free and stood to stare into the eyes of her girlfriend. She didn’t say a word, she simply shot forward and pulled Kit in for a searing kiss.

Justine and Spike made it down the stairs. Once they joined the fight, it was a rout. The robed figures couldn’t hope to match the group they faced.

In minutes, it was all over. The group stood about the living room amid the bodies of their attackers.

“We’re gonna have to replace the carpet in here,” Justine said, looking about. “I don’t think this blood is coming up with a shampooer.”

Faith sighed. “You know…I’m getting real tired of paying to have this place put back together.”

Tara and Willow both stepped over to her. They pulled her in and kissed her. “It’s the only place you’ve ever truly felt at home. That’s worth having a permanent line of credit at the hardware store.” The blonde offered.

“Besides, it’s just the front window,” Willow said.

“And the upstairs window in our room,” Spike said, dropping to the chair. Justine sat on his lap.

“Add the backdoor to the list,” Dawn said, holding her arm to her chest. “Guy came through it pretty hard.”

“You alright?” Faith asked the girl.

“Took a knife across the arm,” Dawn said. She pulled a chair from the dining room and sat down. “I’ve been hurt worse.”

Daniel came out of the kitchen carrying the massive first aid kit they kept on hand. “Everyone have a seat.”

Willow looked at Tara.  _We know spells that can fix all of this_. She telepathically communicated with her love. It was still new but it was something they’d been trying off and on.

 _I know we do_. Tara returned.  _Do you think it’s necessary? Can’t we just have contractors fix it like we did last time?_

Willow stared into her eyes.  _It isn’t fair to keep making Faith pay for it. You know that as well as I do_.  _And having it all fixed would go a long way to making people feel better and safer._

Tara didn’t like the prospect of using magic unless it was in the act of protecting people. But she had to admit that Willow was right. Right now, the house was open to the world. She finally nodded to the redhead.  _Okay. Let’s do it_.

“We’re gonna handle cleanup on this one, Faith,” Willow said.

“You guys can’t afford to…” She was stopped when Tara’s finger touched her lips. She fell silent as the pair took each other’s hands and began chanting.

Slowly, the damage to the home began righting itself. The glass flew from the floor and sofa, weaving about the air and coalescing to reform the window. Daniel turned to see the back door lift from the floor and settle back in the frame.

After several minutes, the pair of witches ceased their chanting. Faith wrapped her arms about them as they wobbled on their feet. “I got ya,” she said, holding them both close. “Thanks for saving us all ten grand.” She pulled each girl in for a kiss.

Buffybot looked around and sighed. “Thirteen of these guys.” She shook her head. She held up the large box. “And a really good collection of cutlery.”

Faith led Tara and Willow over to the sofa. “Gotta give these ass-hats credit. I dig on their choice of blades.” She held the knife up. “Good quality.” She tossed her pair into the box Buffybot was carrying.

“Any idea why they would attack us here?” Daniel asked. “I mean, weren’t they just going after Potential slayers?”

“My guess?” Spike looked about. “I’d say whoever is pullin’ these blokes’ strings is getting desperate. If you look at it…” He eyed everyone. “All of the real power players in this game are in this room. Me, Faith, Slayer two point oh, and the Glindas there. Even my girl and nibblet here are a pair of hard cases. Add that to Cordy’s visions being able to save a lot of potentials and this Macy girl travelin’ the byways saving girls as she can?” He shook his head. “We’re a serious thorn in someone’s side.” He waved his hand. “This was to remove all of that.”

“I just hope it wasn’t a distraction,” Daniel said, as he helped tend the wounded. Everyone turned to look at him. “What?” He asked, looking around.

Suddenly the phone rang. Faith leaned over and picked it up. “Summer’s residence.”

“Hey Faith,” Angel said, his tone happy.

“Hey, Angel. What’s up?” Faith asked, looking around the room.

“Just wanted to tell you that we’re sending some backup for you guys. What with your Harbinger problem.”

“Harbinger problem? What are you talking about?”

“Giles called us. He wanted to know about the cloaked assassins that have been coming after the potential slayers. They’re called Harbingers. Minions of something called ‘The First’.”

“Just a second.” Faith put the phone on speaker. “Tell everyone what you just told me.”

“The men that have been attacking and killing potentials all over the world are called Harbingers. They’re foot soldiers of something called The First.”

“The first?” Justine asked. “The First what?”

“The first evil. A few years ago I was brought back from the hell dimension I was sent to by Buffy. The First was what brought me back. It’s…it’s a force of pure evil. It can manifest in the form of anyone who’s died.”

“Yeah, we’ve been having to deal with that,” Faith said. “And about ten minutes ago a bunch of these Harbinger goons stormed the house.”

“Is everyone alright?”

“Bloody marvelous,” Spike said. “Interrupted my post-shag smoke.”

Angel didn’t respond to the statement. “We’re sending someone up to help. Someone that isn’t going to be fooled by anything The First pulls and isn’t going to have to worry about the Bringers.”

“Who are you sending?” Tara asked, curiously.

 

Andrew moved about the house, checking the rooms, making certain that the girls all had clean linens for their beds, clean clothes to wear – given that most of them had little more than the clothes on their backs – and plenty of food to eat.

Chloe was helping the best she could. “It’s really nice of you all doing this,” she said, happily. She’d grown, in the past few days to really like Andrew. The pair actually shared quite a bit in common. She was a bit of a nerd and liked a lot of the same kinds of things he did.

“It’s the least we can do,” he said, looking at her. “It’s our job to protect people. And the potentials are the future of what we do. We owe it to you to keep you safe.”

The sound of a loud engine rapping out in front of the house caught his attention. “What the heck is that?” He asked heading out to the front room. He pulled the door open to see someone he’d not thought to see again.

“Mitsubishi 3000 GT,” Chloe said. “I’ve always thought those looked sharp. Especially the Spyder. Looks good in Arrest Me red, too.”

Andrew was stunned as the girl stepped out of the car and stood tall and straight. Her thick black hair hung in careless waves about her shoulders. Her legs were sheathed in denim so tight it looked airbrushed on and a red tank top that showed off her toned tanned arms. She pulled her sunglasses off and tucked them into the front of her shirt. She looked up at the house and to Andrew, giving him a broad smile. “Hey, Andrew. Angel thought you might be able to use a hand,” she said as she headed up to the door. “Been a long time.”

“Cordelia?” He asked.

“In the titanium reinforced flesh.” The girl offered. “Fred and Willow reprogrammed me.” She lifted her arms and turned slowly. “I pull for the good guys now.”

“So…you’re not gonna like, go evil and start slaughtering us?”

“Nope,” Cordybot said, smiling. “I’d go into…what was it Fred said?” She thought a moment. “Oh, right. I would go into synaptic meltdown and frag all of my internal systems before I harmed anyone that I care about. I’ve got a long list of people that I care about. You’re as safe as can be with me around.”

Chloe smiled brightly. “I’m Chloe. I’m a potential slayer.”

“Cordelia. I’m a robot.” The android took the girl’s hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

“I’ve gotta make a phone call,” Andrew said. “Faith and the rest are not going to believe this.”

“I think our chances just got a whole lot better,” Chloe said, happily.


	17. Chapter 17

 

Xander sighed with relief as he zoomed past the ‘Now Entering Sunnydale’ sign on the highway. He saw the Dodge in front of him and smiled. He was looking forward to getting back to his wife and friends.

It was a little past noon when the bus pulled up in front of the boarding house. He saw Andrew, Chloe, and her mother standing on the front porch. He was stunned, however, to see Cordelia leaning against the banister. She looked at him and gave him a warm smile. He turned the bus off and waited as the girls all left, taking their bags with them. Kennedy and Macy exited the Dodge and looked up at the house.

Andrew stepped down and offered his hand to all of the girls. “Welcome to Sunnydale,” he said to them all. “It’s not the Hilton or anything, but it should be comfortable enough.” He offered, motioning to the house.

Kennedy sighed heavily. “Far cry from what I’m used to.”

Macy snorted. “I’ve been spending the past month in an old ass motorhome. Compared to that, this  _is_  the Hilton.”

As Andrew and Marie led the girls inside to get situated, Xander stepped up to Cordelia. “What are you doing here?” He asked.

“Angel sent me up to help out,” she said. She cocked her head. “I’m not the one you think I am.”

Xander furrowed his brow. It took him a moment to realize what she was talking about. It finally dawned on him. The memories of what the android was capable of, the out and out  _war_ that she and Buffybot waged in the street in front of the Summers house was still fairly fresh. “You’re a robot?”

“That’s right,” she said. She stepped closer to him. “I know what I was like before. Fred let me keep that part of my memory. I was a tool. A toy for a boy that wanted all the things he couldn’t have and didn’t take no for an answer. I’ve done terrible things and I…”

Xander put his finger to her lips. “That just makes you one of us,” he said, smiling. “Welcome to the team, Cordy.” He pulled her in for a hug.

Cordybot smiled. “Thank you, Xander.” She drew back and stared him in the eyes. “You know…she does still love you.”

He returned her gaze. “She had a funny way of showing it.”

Cordybot shrugged. “You were kids in high school. At that age, everyone has a funny way of showing just about everything.”

“I guess that’s true,” he said. “I gotta get home.”

“Come on,” she said, smiling at him. “I’ll give you a ride.”

 

Macy pulled her clothes out of her duffel and began putting them into the dresser. The room she and Kennedy were given was little more than a closet with a full-size bed in it. Kennedy sat on the bed with her legs crossed. “This room is tiny.”

Macy shrugged. “Beats sleeping on the sofa. At least we don’t have to share with anyone.” She finished putting her clothes away and sat down so Kennedy could stand and do the same. “Some girls are sharing with three others. The only reason we rated a single room like this is because we sleep in the same bed.”

“How many bathrooms does this place have?” Kennedy asked as she set her own clothes into the chest.

“Four and a half,” Macy said. “Not a lot for the amount of girls we have.” She took her boots and socks off and wiggled her toes. “That’s better.”

Kennedy finished her unpacking and slid up onto the bed beside the redhead. “Being here means we won’t be disturbed.” She moved over and settled into Macy’s lap. “Privacy is a wonderful thing.” She planted a firm kiss on Macy’s lips.

“Yes, it is.” The girl said, smiling.

 

Faith folded her arms over her chest as she walked along. “Town’s getting quiet,” she said, looking about.

“Do you think the other vampires realize something dreadful is coming?” Buffybot asked her.

The slayer shrugged. “Couldn’t tell ya.” She sighed heavily. “If that’s the case though…” She shook her head. “Rats on a sinking ship. If vampires are scared of what’s coming then it’s beyond bad.”

“At least we don’t have to worry about vampires  _and_  some stupid big bad.” The newly brunette bot offered.

“I suppose,” Faith said. “I just don’t like it. Every time the town has been this quiet, something horrible has happened.”

“It wouldn’t be Sunnydale if something horrible wasn’t going on.” Buffybot returned.

“Funny.” Faith stopped and looked around the graveyard. She felt…something.

“What is it?” Buffybot asked.

“It feels like a vampire,” Faith said, furrowing her brow. “But it’s…” She shook her head, eyeing the terrain. “It’s different. Older.” She turned to the darkness. “There,” she said, pointing.

The dark-haired robot turned to peer into the shadows. “Something is coming.”

Slowly, the shambling form emerged from the black. Its flesh was pale, almost milky. Long sharp talons extended from his narrow too-long fingers. Its teeth were jagged and dripped saliva as it crept closer. Tattered rags hung from its thin form.

Faith pulled her blades. “Finally,” she said, rushing toward the beast. She made it a half dozen steps before the monster raced to meet her. She struck with her right hand. The blade arced in, looking to take the creature’s head. He caught her fist with little effort. He squeezed, causing pain to race up her arm. He then gripped her by the throat and lifted her bodily from the ground. He turned and hurled her against a tree trunk. She collided with a hard  _crunch_  and fell to the ground. The trunk of the oak split as she hit.

Buffybot was on him a moment later. She jumped, coming down with a hard right cross that cracked him across the jaw. The blow spun him to the ground. As she landed and turned toward him, he was already to his feet. She stared at him with cold, lifeless eyes. “Hey, you knocked her down, why don’t you try knockin’ me down, now?” She said, her voice taking on a sharp New York accent.

The demon growled and went at her. She underestimated his speed and strength drastically. She didn’t realize she’d been hit until she was airborne. She crashed against the wall of the mausoleum with enough force to flower the stone. Her power core fluctuated dangerously. She climbed to her feet as the beast bore in. She stepped in and met him head-on. He loosed a hard punch that she caught in mid-strike. “My turn,” she snarled. She gripped his throat, as he had with Faith and spun, slamming him into the wall she collided with a heartbeat before. Her strength, backed by high capacity hydraulics and state of the art technology, sent him through the wall to smash into the sarcophagus inside with a sick, wet  _crunch_. “I’ve got a reinforced titanium endoskeleton and high-impact shock resistant plating to keep me from being damaged,” Buffybot said as she stepped into the crypt. “You don’t.”

The monster growled and lunged at her. He drove his shoulder into her abdomen and lifted her from the ground, throwing her over his own shoulder, across the mausoleum.

Buffybot rolled with the throw and hit the wall with her feet. She crouched against the stone and sprang off, flipping back toward the creature. He was stunned as she landed on him with both feet, bearing him to the ground. She straddled his chest and gripped his throat. “Some motherfuckers are always trying to ice skate uphill.” She then rained hammer hard blows to the monsters face. Her fist pounded his skull to some much bloody meat before finally, he crumbled into black ashen dust. She rose to her feet and stepped out of the crypt and over to Faith.

The slayer slowly came back to consciousness as Buffybot lifted her from the grass. “Are you alright?” The robot asked.

“Yeah,” Faith said, shaking her head to clear the cobwebs. “What the fuck was that thing?”

“I don’t know,” Buffybot said. “Seemed as though it was some sort of vampire.”

Faith looked at her, doubtful. “I’ve been fighting vamps for nearly half a decade and I’ve  _never_  seen a vamp like that before.”

“I smashed his head and he turned into dust. I am not aware of any other supernatural creature that turns to dust,” Buffybot said. “Though I do admit that my exposure to the paranormal is rather limited.”

“If he was a vamp, he’s a new one,” Faith said.

“Or a very, very old one,” Buffybot said as they made their way to Faith’s Roadrunner.

Willow sat staring at her laptop with Giles. Faith sat on the sofa with Tara. Daniel sat in the easy chair with Buffybot in his lap. The witch and the Watcher stared at the video feed recorded from Buffybot. “Any idea what it is?” The redhead asked.

Giles bit his lip. “I’ve never seen them before,” he said shaking his head. He furrowed his brow. “But there is something…” He rose to his feet and moved to a large stack of books. “There was something about a-a-a progenitor species of vampire. A race of…” He looked at the ceiling and shook his head. “They predate the current half-breeds that we see in modern day.” He began flipping through the book.

“You mean these things are thousands of years old?” Faith asked as she held the icepack over her eye.

“From what I’ve heard,” he said. He made it to a passage and nodded. “Here we are. The Turok-Han. Ancient and powerful vampires possessing of strength and ferocity far outstripping their human kin.” He looked to the gathered group. “The best descriptor would be that they are to modern vampires what Neanderthals are to humans.”

“So if they’re vampires, they can be killed the same ways and have to follow the same rules, right?” Daniel asked.

“Partially,” Giles said, furrowing his brow. “According to this, sunlight and beheading do kill them, but they are immune to crosses, and holy water only causes minor burns that seem not to deter them in the slightest. They are highly resistant – although not invulnerable – to being staked through the heart. Apparently due to their denser bone structure.”

Faith nodded. “Kakistos was like that. When B staked him, it didn’t really seem to do much besides piss him off.”

“Explains why you had to run him through with a support beam,” Tara said, smiling. She hugged the brunette slayer closer. “It’s alright, sweetie. He caught you by surprise. You know better now.”

Faith looked at her girlfriend and returned the smile. It didn’t quite reach her eyes, but she did feel better.

Giles sighed. “This is not good.” He looked about the room. “From what this indicates …the Turok-Han can enter human residences undeterred.”

“What?” Faith asked a sudden spark of fear in her voice.

“I thought you said they were vampires,” Daniel said, fearfully.

“They are, but…something about them is different. Perhaps they are more demon than vampire and the same rules simply don’t apply,” Giles said.

“It doesn’t matter,” Buffybot said, standing up. “They wanna bring the whuppin’ we’ll be here to lay the smack down on their candy asses.”

Daniel looked up at her. “Okay, you really need to stop watching the WWE Network.”

“This is an advantage,” Giles said. “Such as it is. It says they are incapable of language and limited to animal instinct.”

“Great,” Faith said. “So they’re  _dumb_ and apocalyptically strong.” She shook her head. “Fucking wonderful.”

“Come with me,” Tara said, as she rose to her feet and offered her hand to Faith.

The slayer took her hand and got up. “Where are we going?”

Tara ignored her. “Willow? Would you come with us, please?” The redhead nodded. “Giles? Let’s see about getting a spell found that can protect the house from something like that, would you? We’ll be back in a little bit.”

He nodded. “Of course, of course.”

Tara led Faith and Willow outside and to the Jeep. She unlocked the door and opened it for Faith. “Get in.”

“Where are you taking me?” Faith asked.

“Do you trust us?” Tara stared at the girl. At Faith’s nod, she motioned to the door of the car. “Then get in.”

Faith sighed and climbed inside. Willow sat behind her and Tara slid behind the wheel. She fired the rig up and pulled out of the driveway and drove along quietly. Faith was getting antsy. Tara knew this but remained silent. A few minutes later, they arrived at a cemetery. “Let’s go,” she said, stepping out of the car.

Faith and Willow followed suit and walked behind her. It took a moment to realize where they were. “What are we doing here?”

“You’ll see,” Tara said, making her way to two graves sitting side by side. “Here we are.” She reached out and offered Faith her hand.

The brunette slayer took it. “What did you bring me here for?” She asked, her voice tightening.

“Because this is where you needed to be,” Tara said. “Look at them. Both of them.” She pointed to the headstones.

Faith looked at the gravesites of Buffy and her mother. “What am I…?”

Tara released her hand and backed away, giving her some space. “Just listen, Faith. Relax and you’ll understand. You’ll know what to say. They’re both listening.”

Faith looked at her in confusion. At both Tara and Willow’s loving smiles, she let out a breath, turned back to the graves and dropped to her knees. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to say,” she said, resting her hands on her thighs. “I got my ass kicked tonight.” She chuckled. “Bad. Fucker took me out in one shot. If Double B hadn’t been with me, I would have been wasted.” She shook her head. “I guess…I guess that’s probably nothin’ new for you, B. Some of the stories you told, you been whupped up on plenty.” She felt tears threaten. She wiped them away and continued on. “I miss you, B. I know, I know we were never  _really_  close, you know? But bein’ out there with you, fightin’ beside you, patrollin’ with you? Those were fun times. I liked doin’ that. Bein’ a slayer was the only thing we had in common, but, but we could get in each other’s heads, you know? We could feel each other. You were always so bottled up. Such a tight ass. But every now and then you’d cut loose and it was, it was good. It was amazing. It wasn’t sex good, but it was close. To feel you just letting it all go and giving yourself over to being a slayer was just, it was the world, B.” She began crying in earnest. “I miss that.”

Tara and Willow watched the girl. “Seems she had a lot to say.” Willow offered.

“She isn’t used to being trounced as badly as she was,” Tara said. “She’s doubting herself. And right now, we can’t afford to let her. Seeing the reason she’s here might help.”

Faith couldn’t hear their hushed conversation. Instead, she was staring at the pair of gravestones. “You trusted me to keep them all safe, B.” She shook her head. “I don’t know if I can.”

“That’s not the slayer I know.” Faith heard the girl’s voice behind her.

“I know what you are,” Faith said, shaking her head. “I ain’t fallin’ for it.”

“Relax,” Buffy said, walking around to lean against her mother’s headstone. “I’m not her.” She furrowed her brow. “Or it. Not real sure. Powers that be are a little fuzzy on the details.”

“I’m supposed to believe that?” Faith asked.

“I guess I can see your point. The first has been fucking with your heads a lot, hasn’t it?”

Faith giggled. “Did you just drop an F-Bomb?”

“I’ve been watching you for a year and a half. Something’s bound to rub off.” Buffy sighed and rubbed her face in her hands. “I can’t believe I said that to you.”

Faith laughed outright. “Always liked the idea of you rubbin’ on me.”

“Letch,” Buffy said, shaking her head, chuckling. “I’m not here to screw with your head, Faith. I’m here to tell you that I trust you. And this self-doubt crap isn’t you. You don’t do that very well.”

“I got trashed, B. I’ve never had my ass handed to me like that,” Faith said. “I can’t…”

“Kakistos,” Buffy said. “When he found us, he beat the shit out of you, Faith. You were terrified and you froze up. He wailed on you like a rented mule.” She cocked her head. “He was bigger, he was stronger and he was more powerful than you. And what did you do? He was kicking your ass and what did you do to him?”

Faith stared at her. “I got a bigger stake.”

Buffy nodded. “You got a bigger stake.” She moved over and knelt in front of the dark haired slayer. “That’s always what it boils down to. When the fight comes, when what you have isn’t enough…you run. When you first clashed with Kakistos, he took everything from you but your survival instinct. And that instinct told you to run. Told you to fight on  _your_ terms. Not his. And that’s exactly what you did. Remember what I said to you that night? The first rule of being a slayer?”

Faith smiled. “Don’t die.”

“There you go. So this ubervamp handed you your ass on a silver platter. So what? You gonna pack it in, run and hide with your tail between your legs?” She grinned at her dark counterpart. “Or are you gonna grab a bigger stake?”

Faith returned Buffy’s grin. “I think we both know the answer to that.”

“Good. Now stop being a pussy and be the badass, no bullshit, leather pants wearing slayer that made me all hot and bothered when she showed up in town.” Buffy returned.

“Did I really?” Faith asked, shocked.

“Oh, yeah,” Buffy said. “I can’t tell you how many times I wanted to kiss you. If Angel hadn’t have shown up at the club that night we were dancing?” She gave Faith a wink. “Lot of itch scratching.”

“I’m gonna kill him next time I see him,” Faith said, growling.

“Do not kill your sponsor,” Buffy said, rising to her feet. “I’ve gotta go. But before I do, I want you to understand something, Faith.” The slayer looked at her. “You’re the best of us. You’re the best slayer there’s ever been. Even better than me.”

“No way, B. You were…” Faith shot to her feet.

“Shut up and listen to me,” Buffy said. “I never had to face what you did. I wasn’t as strong as you. What you lived through before ever being called? What you faced down just after being tapped?” She shook her head. “I don’t think I could have  _ever_  survived that. You embraced darkness the way I never could. You tasted the very evil we fought, you became that evil.” She stared into Faith’s eyes. “And you broke free of it. You can stand here now, understanding that evil better than any slayer that has ever come before. You know how the bastards think because you were one of them.  _That_  makes you a better slayer than I ever was. And  _that_  is the reason I asked you to do this. To protect what’s left of my family. Because I know that you’ll do everything in your power…and even a few things that aren’t to see them safe.” She shook her head. “And you won’t let doubt keep you from doing it. You’ll falter every now and again, but you have people that love you, friends that care about you, and a home that you never thought you’d have. For them and for that, well…” She smiled. “You’re Faith the goddamn Vampire Slayer. You don’t do self-doubt. You just gotta be reminded of that once in a while.”

Faith stared at the blonde. “Thanks, B.”

“What are friends for?” The girl said. “Now get the hell out of here and stop moping like a pussy.”

“Yeah,” Faith said, wiping her tears. “Okay. Tell your mom I said hi, will you?”

“She can hear you, Faith,” Buffy said. “We both can.”

“You don’t listen when T-Bear, Red and I…” Faith asked.

“Jesus,” Buffy said, shaking her head. “Go away now,” she said, turning away. “Perv.”

Faith watched her slowly fade away. She felt better. Tara was right. This  _is_ where she needed to be at this moment. She reached up and tore the band-aid off of the cut on her forehead and tossed it onto the ground. “Thanks, Buffy,” she said again, softly. She turned and walked back to her girlfriends.

Tara and Willow both watched her. Her shoulders were square and her chin was up. “Feel better?” The redhead asked. Her only response was a knee-buckling, spine-numbing kiss. Her eyes were still closed and her heart was still thudding in her chest when Faith pulled away. The slayer repeated the kiss with her blonde Wiccan lover.

For several seconds the pair of casters were content to stand there, letting their breathing and racing hearts calm. “I w-w-would say that’s a yes,” Tara said, opening her eyes to stare at Faith.

“Gimme the keys,” Faith said. “I’m driving.” Tara handed them over. The Jeep didn’t dip below seventy all the way home. She made damn sure that everyone understood that the three of them weren’t to be disturbed.

Buffybot and Daniel both watched the three veritably run up the stairs. “No secret what they’re going to be doing,” he said, chuckling.

His fiancé turned to look at him. “I think it is the same thing we should be doing,” she said, sliding up to him. “What do you think?”

He said nothing. He simply took her hand and headed for the basement.

Giles came out of the dining room. “Buffy, if you’re not busy could I have you…” He stopped and looked around the empty living room. “Where did everyone go?” He asked. He heard the door to Faith, Willow, and Tara’s bedroom slam shut. The basement door followed suit a heartbeat later. “Oh, bloody hell.” He looked at his watch and noticed it was just after nine thirty at night. He smiled and decided to head home. He had a beautiful woman waiting for him.

 

 


End file.
